The Element of the Future
by petitecanard
Summary: James Sirius Potter loves a good adventure, but he gets more than he bargained for when Carina Black tumbles into 2028. Portraits, pendants, and purebloods should not be trifled with. (complete)
1. Chapter 1

The Element of the Future

Part 1: The Present

June 8th, 2028

Minerva had a headache. Ever since Fred and Dominique Weasley had arranged a fantastic graduation prank involving the Giant Squid doing jumps and tricks, other students, to no avail, had tried to match Fred and Dom. This year three unimaginative students had set up a firework display at their Hogwarts graduation. Now, Minerva required a few moments of peace to recover.

"Thistle." She told the stoic gargoyle outside her office.

"I am not sure you want to go up there," the gargoyle warned, its voice like two rough stones grinding against each other, "Carina is up there, shouting at her Grandfather, sounds like."

"Excuse me?" Minerva did not know what to make of that statement. Very few people knew the password to her office, as Minerva preferred.

"You'll see," the gargoyle grumbled.

Striding up the winding stairs Minerva heard an unfamiliar voice assaulting her ears.

"You lunatic, you egg-hearted raving mad toad! Thinking you could play with my life without care for. . . ."

Minerva stiffened when she saw the shrieking young woman. She had not felt such visceral surprise since Harry Potter had stepped out of his invisibility cloak after being presumed dead at the Battle of Hogwarts, all of thirty years ago.

For right before Minerva was a woman, with such tremendous fury in her eyes that she looked like a young Bellatrix Lestrange, who Minerva had taught and seen die. And if any cruel and twisted witch would somehow come back to life to wreak havoc it was Bellatrix Black Lestrange.

"_Petrificus Totalus,_" Minerva murmured, but the woman, the reincarnated Bellatrix, snapped up a Shield Charm, without a pause in her mad ravings.

". . . the long term effects of a hundred year imprisonment! I should have told Father, or even Arcturus, that you gave me that ring! So they would have understood how psychotic you are." For a short moment Minerva only heard the thundering voices of the portraits as the woman kept screaming, but the sharp words soon found their way back to Minerva. "Or at the very least they would have murdered me and then I would not have been bored out of my mind for a whole century! Sweet Salazar Slytherin I would kill you . . ." she cleanly stepped out of the path of Minerva's Expelliarmus, "but clearly you are as just insane in the grave as out of it! You ripped my life apart. . . ."

"ENOUGH!" Minerva finally shouted, putting all the strength she had collected after teaching for decades into the command. The din quieted except for one all too familiar nasally voice coming from the wall.

"Really, Carina, such yelling is unfit for a lady," Phineas Nigellus Black admonished.

"My voice needs exercise after such a long period of disuse." The woman declared haughtily, her lips pursed. Both the woman and Phineas Nigellus Black had their noses pointed up at precisely the same angle.

Minerva kept her wand trained on the woman, this _Carina_. Now that Minerva could take a calming breath and gather her thoughts, she realized Carina did not truly look like Bellatrix. Yes, she had the similarly striking pale skin that was so clear and so smooth that if Carina stood perfectly still she might be a polished marble statue. And yes, her hair was dark, but it fell in smooth waves instead of madly twisting into Bellatrix's curls. Carina did have the same disdainful stare that Bellatrix had perfected, which made the unsuspecting stranger feel like an ugly beetle. But Bellatrix's eyes had been the unnerving stormy grey of the sky during a sudden gale. Carina's eyes were grey like seaside mist. Her jaw was as stubbornly defined, but her nose turned up slightly in a way Minerva would almost call endearing.

Most oddly, the more Minerva studied the haughty countenance across from her the more Minerva thought that this person was strangely familiar.

"Who are you? How did you enter my office?" Minerva demanded harshly. Unsettling recognition aside, this woman should not have been able to enter Minerva's office.

"Good afternoon, Headmistress McGonogall." The woman had a pleasing lilt to her voice that reminded Minerva of the high-bred pureblood witches she had attended Hogwarts with. The woman smoothly dipped into a slight curtsy. "I am Carina Vela Black, daughter of Sirius and Hesper Black," and here her formal introduction abruptly ended and Carina glared with frightening menace at the portrait hanging on the wall, "and granddaughter of this imbecilic ponce, Phineas Nigellus Black."

"That is impossible." Minerva raised her voice to be heard over the portraits that had started clamoring. Her tone was steady, despite her frantic thought that the Blacks would be the family to achieve the impossible, and raise the dead, simply to spite the rest of the world.

The woman retracted her cold eyes from the portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black and turned them on Minerva. "Let us take a quick jaunt to my ancestral home then?" And with head-spinning quickness Carina spun to the fireplace, took a pinch of Floo powder, and shouted, "12 Grimmauld Place!"

Minerva did not see any option but to follow her.

Ginny and Harry had transformed Grimmauld Place into a boarding house for young Aurors. So although Carina was evidently shocked, Minerva was not surprised to find the living room of Grimmauld Place occupied by an assortment of young Aurors.

"What are you all doing here?" Carina demanded, her aristocratic disdain even greater than it had been in Minerva's study.

"What are _you _doing here?" One of the Aurors, who Minerva recognized as Warren Cautney asked suspiciously. "Hello, Professor McGonogall, do you know this woman?"

"No," Minerva answered. "I only know that she seems to have disrespect for other people's property."

"Professor," Carina spoke, and Minerva had taught enough students to know her sweet voice promised trouble, "I know you are advancing in years, but I introduced myself to you just moments ago."

"I remember the lies you spouted seconds before you came here, yes," Minerva said levelly.

Carina looked indignant. "I do not _spout_."

One of the Aurors moved as if he was going to curse her, but Carina ignored him and bounded over to the tapestry. Her fingers traced it tenderly as her eyes softened.

"What are you doing?" Scorpius Malfoy asked.

Carina's finger reached down the tapestry and then tapped the face that lay directly below _Draco Malfoy _and _Astoria Greengrass Malfoy_. "Hello, Mr. Malfoy."

Scorpius's eyebrow raised a millimeter. "I am sorry, have we met?" His pureblood manners remained unfailing.

"I am disappointed that none of you recognize me," Carina sighed, the corner of her full mouth dipping into a frown, "but no, we have never met."

"Just tell us who the bloody hell you are," another Auror said, exasperation clear in her tone. Minerva did not blame the Auror for disliking the strangely tense atmosphere.

"I really do not like such uncouth language, Miss Falk. But in answer to your question, my name is Carina, and in a moment all will become clear."

Scorpius rolled his eyes; Minerva too resented the melodrama of Carina's statement.

The next moment all of the Aurors' wands were out and trained on Carina, who had just pulled a small silver dagger out of her robes. "Never know when you are going to need some blood for a little spell or two." Her grin was manic. The only people in the room who did not flinch were Minerva and Scorpius.

"Alright,_ that is enough_." Scorpius commanded, and not for the first time Minerva was astounded a pitiful ferret like Draco Malfoy had raised Scorpius into such a respectable young man.

Carina ignored him and instead sliced her palm easily, as if she had done it hundreds of times. A bright red slash appeared instantly, blood flowing easily from the open wound.

"I am going to take you to Auror Potter now." Scorpius interrupted, and sprang into action. He grabbed Carina's arm; an instant later they vanished. But Scorpius wasn't quick enough, because Carina had still had time to smoothly press her bloody palm onto a leaf in the middle of the tapestry.

Minerva strode forward, wand ready to stop whatever blood curse the insane girl might have wrought. When she saw the tapestry her hands trembled.

"What is it, Professor?" Warren Cautney asked, noticing her change in demeanor.

"Go to the Auror Offices and bring the girl Mr. Potter back here, and bring Auror Potter," Minerva ordered. "Now, Mr. Cautney!"

Warren nodded and obediently Apparated away.

Minerva returned her gaze to the tapestry. The blood had quickly absorbed into the wall, causing the thread to rearrange into a miniature portrait. In curling script, under the small embroidered picture that looked uncannily like the girl Scorpius had just disappeared with, was the inscription _Carina Vela Black, 1909 - _

Minerva sat heavily into one of the armchairs.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Carina's shouting brought attention to them once the pair appeared in the Auror Offices. Scorpius ignored the crowd as he attempted to hold the bloody knife while also restraining the dangerous woman.

"Unhand me, you witless buffoon!" Carina yelled. "You have no right to kidnap me you beetle-brained scoundrel!"

"You cannot just pull a knife out in front of half a dozen Aurors and expect no consequences," Scorpius reasoned calmly.

"If I wanted to arrange a blood-bath of Aurors I am not so incompetent as to use a small harmless dagger when I know curses that would make you long for the comfort of your mother's womb!" This didn't seem like an empty threat.

"Nevertheless, it could be a cursed weapon." Scorpius explained. Despite the growing crowd, Scorpius's attention did not waver from the woman who was struggling in one of his arms.

"No, it could not be a cursed weapon, Mr. Malfoy! Although I should not be surprised that the great-grandson of that useless dunderhead, Armand Malfoy, would be so dreadfully inept! One cannot use a dagger that has been spelled or cursed in any way for blood magic." The woman did not pause in her insults even as she radiated frustration.

"Scorpius," Harry's voice cut through the scene, causing both the strange woman and Scorpius to become still. "Care to explain?" Scorpius knew that Harry would bring the full attention of the Auror Office to anyone who so casually and knowledgeably mentioned blood magic. Scorpius opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted by a shrill crack that announced the subsequent appearance of Warren Cautney.

"Hullo, Auror Potter, Malfoy. Uh, Professor McGonogall wants Auror Potter and the woman to return to Grimmauld Place. And I guess you too, Malfoy."

"You came from Grimmauld Place?" Harry queried, surprise clear in his voice.

"She broke in." Scorpius explained, with a nod at the woman who was glaring fiercely at him. Scorpius had no idea why McGonogall wanted them to return to Grimmauld Place, but she must have a good reason.

Today was supposed to be Scorpius's day off. He had gone to Grimmauld Place to give Edwina Falk a few files that he had been studying in his flat. It was supposed to be a quick trip because he had lunch planned with Albus. Now he was escorting a lunatic from Grimmauld Place to the Auror Offices, and back again to Grimmauld Place. And he was fairly certain she had gotten blood on his favorite shirt.

"Let go of me, you sickening chicken-hearted brute." The maniac insisted once they were back in Grimmauld Place. Although Scorpius admired the ingenuity of her insults he did not remove his hands from her slim wrists. He had not yet searched her for a wand, and he knew better than to let an armed madwoman loose.

"Hello, Minerva," Harry greeted the Professor, who was sitting stiffly in an armchair.

"I am glad you came, Harry," Professor McGonogall said. "I sent the other young Aurors away, as they were crowding the room. You should also leave, Mr. Cautney," she ordered.

Warren sent a nasty glare in Scorpius's direction, since Scorpius was evidently being allowed to stay, but did as he was told.

"Why are we here?" Harry wondered, echoing Scorpius's thoughts.

"Look at the tapestry." Minerva pointed at the wall.

"Why?" Harry asked.

"Ha!" The madwoman exclaimed triumphantly, "you believe me now, do you not, Professor?"

"I don't know." Professor McGonogall admitted. Scorpius noted Professor McGonogall's Scottish brogue had become stronger, as it often did when she was stressed.

"What am I supposed to be seeing?" Harry reiterated.

"Until two minutes ago, the tapestry showed that Hesper and Sirius Black had three children." McGonogall explained, "if you look, they now have four."

Confusion was clear on Harry's face and he took a step forward. "I never spent much time looking at this," he admitted, "who is the new one?"

"Carina Vela Black," Minerva said, and Harry's eyes found the spot on the tapestry.

"Carina Vela Black," Harry repeated slowly, "1909 to. . . ."

"Will you get your filthy hands off of me and allow me to explain?" The woman demanded suddenly. Scorpius was just surprised she had stayed quiet until then. "I have not done anything to warrant this callous treatment!"

"You broke into my office," McGonogall accused.

"Aethelred let me in!"

"Aethelred?" Harry and McGonogall repeated.

"The name of the gargoyle. Aethelred."

"You broke into Grimmauld Place," Harry said.

"I did not _break in_, the wards let me in!"

"You pulled a knife out in front of Aurors." Scorpius reminded her.

"But I did not threaten anyone, and I only harmed myself."

"You vandalized the tapestry," Scorpius insisted, although he was rapidly growing tired of this game.

"I cannot vandalize something that belongs to me!"

"I own Grimmauld Place," Harry said.

"Perhaps, but the family tapestry belongs to all members of the House of Black. Now will you let go of my wrists you moth-eaten fool, so I can explain!" The woman was so tense and furious that Scorpius was reminded of an angrily hissing cat,

"Scorpius, let go of her," Harry ordered, so Scorpius dutifully removed his hands from her wrists and took a large step away from her. "There's three of us to her one."

"I should be offended that you are underestimating me," the girl declared, and Scorpius was certain the only person who could match her contemptuous voice was his grandmother, "but it is working in my favor, so I will not complain. You are also not the first, my brother, Lycoris, had a nasty habit of underestimating me." She glided to the tapestry and pointed at the name, _Lycoris Phineas Black_, next to _Carina Vela Black_.

"That's not possible." Harry disagreed flatly.

Carina rolled her eyes. Scorpius could count on one hand the amount of people not related to Harry who had the gall to roll their eyes at the Chosen One. "Just like it is not possible to survive the Killing Curse?" She taunted. Everyone was shocked by her bold statement, and because Carina had begun tracing obscure runic symbols with her wand onto the scorch marks of the tapestry.

To Scorpius's amazement the scorch marks were fading and becoming faces on the ancient family tree. The descendants of these disowned family members were also appearing in delicate lines down the tapestry. Carina seemed to slip into her own world as she looked at the tapestry, causing Scorpius to suddenly feel as if he was intruding on an intimate moment.

"Uncle Phineas is long dead, but he will always be a Black."

Everyone watched, entranced, as Carina's fingers danced to another face that had just appeared. "And poor darling Marius." Carina's voice was quiet, almost broken. "He was likely better off without us, but I have half a mind to bring Uncle Cygnus back to life just so I can torture him for what he did that day.

"I never met Andromeda and Sirius, beyond my own limited gaze. I think Andromeda was . . . is . . . happy, which is more than most of the Blacks have claim to."

Carina stared at one spot on the tapestry for a long minute. "Where _is _cousin Sirius, then?"

"Dead," Harry responded sharply.

"Did you see the body? The tapestry does not have a year of death, and the tapestry is never wrong."

"He died." Harry's voice was harsh.

"Obviously not."

"He fell through the goddamned Veil in the Department of Mysteries."

"If he fell through the Veil then he is not actually dead, just in limbo. Have you tried Summoning him?"

"I say _Accio _Sirius Black," Harry snorted disdainfully, his fury increasing with every word, "and my long dead godfather flies out of the Veil?"

"Again, if he fell through the Veil then he did not die, as the tapestry clearly reveals." Carina's voice was condescending, as if she were talking to an unruly student instead of the savior of the Wizarding World. "And _Accio_? Really? There are ways to Summon something other than an easy Second Year charm, Mr. Potter. I thought the defeater of the Dark Lord would have a bit more knowledge of the older forms of magic."

Scorpius knew _Accio_ was far more advanced than a Second Year spell, but he didn't think either Harry or Carina would appreciate his input.

"What I learned from defeating Voldemort is that the Dark Arts are evil!" Harry shouted, his voice had been steadily rising since Carina asked where Sirius was.

Carina scoffed, unintimidated by Harry's fearsome demeanor, "of course you hate what you do not understand. I could kill someone just as well with _Augamenti_ as with _Fiendfyre._ Easier really, _Fiendfyre_ can be so unpredictable. And what you would term the darkest forms of magic is what is used to destroy other dark forms of magic. _Fiendfyre_ and Basilisk venom, while dangerous, are used to destroy Horcruxes. And you would know all about Horcruxes, would you not, Mr. Potter?" The bold statement shocked Scorpius and enraged Harry. Because the knowledge was so dangerous, very few people had knowledge on Horcruxes.

"Who the hell are you?" Harry growled, his wand suddenly at her throat. "And how do you know about Horcruxes?" Scorpius had never seen his father-in-law look so furious.

To Carina's credit, she did not falter, and begrudgingly Scorpius had to admit he was impressed.

"I am Carina Vela Black," she said in her clear, melodic voice. "And please, I have known about Horcruxes since Great-Aunt Elladora tried to make one. Her problem was that you need to murder a human, not a House Elf, in the ritual to make a Horcrux. After she failed with our House Elf she tried to sacrifice me instead, but Grandfather dissuaded her. I was eight at the time."

"Those half-witted explanations aside," Minerva said from the armchair, while Harry and Scorpius were still wading through the revelation that Carina's Great-Aunt had wanted to murder her, "you cannot be Carina Black. You are clearly not one hundred and nineteen years old."

Either that, Scorpius mused, or he should interrogate Carina on her skin care routine.

Carina nodded sharply, "Mr. Potter, do you happen to have a portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black in this house? I am sure he would have put himself in Grimmauld Place so he could insult his family for eternity."

Scorpius was shocked when Harry snickered, though his face quickly returned to its former grim and foreboding expression.

"Follow me, or I'll Stun you."

"Pettiness is not a good look for you," Carina retorted primly.

Scorpius, Carina, and Professor McGonogall followed Harry through the narrow corridors of Grimmauld Place, like an odd assortment of ducklings. In a far corner of a deserted hallway an empty portrait hung.

"Listen up you feckless old coot!" Carina shouted, surprising her audience.

"Carina, Carina," they heard the reedy voice of Phineas Nigellus Black before they saw him. "What would your father say if he knew you were addressing me as such? I thought Cassiopeia was the dramatic one, but with her gone it appears you have taken up the role." Phineas Nigellus stepped into the portrait and frowned at everyone surrounding it. "Really, Carina? You have already associated yourself with blood-traitors?"

"I fixed the family tapestry, Grandfather." Carina said, her voice now at a normal level.

"I am glad you resumed your place on it."

"I also reinstated Great-Aunt Iola, Uncle Phineas, Cedrella, Marius, Alphard, Sirius, and Andromeda, among others." Carina informed him sweetly.

Phineas Nigellus puffed out his chest, reminding Scorpius of his father in a particularly displeased moment. "They are traitors to the House, Carina. They do not deserve a place either on the tapestry or in our family!"

"I disagree, and you are long dead, so I fail to see what you can do about it. Besides which, you have no one but your own dragon-dung filled self to blame for me being able to fix that cursed tapestry!" Carina was so close to the portrait her nose nearly touched it, but in a flash she stepped away and gestured to the assortment of people. "Tell them, Grandfather, tell them what the esteemed Phineas Nigellus Black did to his _favorite_ grandchild!"

"Carina, that is enough from you." Phineas Nigellus scolded. "You ought to be thanking me!"

"_Thanking you?_" Carina asked hoarsely, her desperate whisper far worse than her wild shrieks.

"Tell them what you did Grandfather, or I swear to Merlin I will throw your portraits in the Black Lake so the merpeople can tear you apart!"

Phineas Nigellus looked entirely disapproving, but appeared to take Carina's threat to heart. "Carina Vela Black is indeed my granddaughter," he told the group, "and I put her in a portrait for one hundred years."

"You are more insane than a rabid grindylow addicted to Babbling Beverage," Carina hissed, and Scorpius felt compelled to silently agree with her. The infamous Black madness was clearly more than a scary story his grandmother told him when he was young and she wanted him to behave.

"Portrait?" McGonogall repeated. "Are you _Fortis Texta Carinae_?"

"Strong-keeled?" Scorpius translated, the vague image of a life-size portrait in the Great Hall appearing in his mind. The portrait was situated near the Slytherin tables, but Scorpius had never examined it. He had assumed portraits that spoke to students were more fascinating.

"I thought the name was fitting," Phineas Nigellus confirmed.

"Looking at you gives me an excruciating headache," announced Carina as she twirled away. Scorpius had never seen someone angrily glide until that moment.

"Carina! Carina!" Phineas Nigellus shouted, and perhaps his tone held a teaspoon's amount of pleading, because Carina paused in her stride. "There is a vault in Gringotts under your name, Carina. Open it!"

"It appears, Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy, and Professor," Carina said, "that I have places I need to be. Thank you for your time, perhaps we will be seeing each other again."

She Apparated away, but for a tense moment the three remaining only stared at the spot where she had stood. Scorpius wondered if this had been a sleep-deprived hallucination until Phineas Nigellus broke the silence.

"My Carina is too strong-keeled for her own good."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"I believe there is a vault under my name here."

Gornot had been working at Gringotts for thirty-eight years, and this was only the third time he had heard a human speak Gobbledegook, the language of goblins. Humans often had trouble with the deep guttural sounds of Gobbledegook, and this woman was no different. Nevertheless Gornot could understand her. "I apologize," she said ruefully, this time in standard English. "My Gobbledegook must be abhorrent. I self-taught myself, and I have had no opportunity to practice talking with native speakers."

"It could be worse." Gornot responded frankly, in Gobbledegook.

"Thank you," she studied the name printed on his Gringotts uniform, "Master Gornot."

"Your name?"

"Carina Vela Black." Miss Black bit her lip, "the account was likely created some time ago by Phineas Nigellus Black."

"Wand." Carina handed over her wand, and Gornot weighed it. "Yew with core of dragon heart-string, 9 and 6/7 inches, flexible. A highly unusual wand."

"An excellent wand." Miss Black responded, in her halting Gobbledegook.

Gornot nodded and searched the records for an account under the name Carina Vela Black.

He was surprised for a second time when he found the file. This account was well-known among Gringotts goblins for being a vault that had been claimed by the Ministry of Magic during Hermione Granger-Weasley's bureaucratic nit-picking overhaul in 2003. Mrs. Granger had reviewed the file and claimed no members of the House of Black existed to claim it, and as neither Narcissa Black Malfoy nor Andromeda Black Tonks wanted it, the Ministry was going to reinvest the funds into St. Mungo's Hospital. 2003 had been a terrible year at Gringotts.

Gornot solemnly turned to Miss Black. "Unfortunately, Miss Black, there are no funds available to you from this vault."

Her right eyebrow raised infinitesimally, "it is empty?"

"In 2003 the Ministry of Magic mandated a bureaucratic overview of Gringotts. This was one of the vaults seized." Gornot tried to professionally keep his tone neutral, but a note of bitterness escaped.

"I have nothing?"

"There was a deed to a house, but the Ministry could not find the property due to the heavy wards. You may claim the deed."

"A house?" Miss Black's interest was piqued.

"Blackthorn House, I believe it is called."

"Blackthorn House in the West Country? And I own it?" Miss Black was evidently startled.

"The legality is a bit complicated according to the Ministry." Gornot explained. "But according to Gringotts, you own it."

Only because the emotion was so familiar to him was Gornot able to detect grim satisfaction in Miss Black's eyes,

"And you may be able to hire a lawyer to retrieve what the Ministry took from you." Gornot advised "But it will be a complex, drawn-out, and expensive legal process."

Miss Black frowned. "I will need to evaluate the state of Blackthorn House before I make any decisions." She decided firmly. "I trust that if I need anything I can contact Gringotts?"

"Yes."

Miss Black nodded sharply. "Then I believe that will be all for today. May many galleons be in your future, Mr. Gornot."

"And to you too, Miss Black." Gornot replied.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

**AN: Here we are! I'll be posting the next chapter tomorrow, but here's a tidbit of it:**

[Scorpius was baffled. The webbed cracks in the marble floor were minuscule, but Scorpius could not take his eyes off of them. Until he noticed the black scorch marks that formed a perfect circle. Then all the details started to flood his mind: the hardened green stain behind the right pillar, the tiny bottle-stopper, the unavoidable smell of flobberworm mucus, the eerie humming emanating from the Veil, and the heavy feel of magic in the air. ]

**Please review! Please please please review! **


	2. Chapter 2

"When was this renamed from _Borgin & Burke's_?" The smooth feminine voice was not in itself startling to Delphine Burke. But she had stopped hearing that question over a decade ago.

"I bought this store and transformed it into _Burke's_ twenty-five years ago," Delphine said. "Is this your first time here?" The visitor appeared younger than twenty-five. The healthy flush of her pale smooth skin belied youthfulness, even if the woman carried herself with a steady certainty that spoke to a mature self-assurance.

"You are a Burke?" Usually when someone interrogated Delphine about her last name it was with a large dose of judgement; the Burkes were reviled after the Second Wizarding War. But this tone was purely curious.

"Delphine Burke, proprietor of _Burke's_. How may I help you today?"

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Madame Burke, I am Carina. I have a few objects I would like to sell." Carina put her hand into the inside pocket of her lace-trimmed black velvet cape, and withdrew an extravagantly glittering ring.

Delphine picked it up and examined the square cut emerald surrounded by sparkling diamonds with the magnifying glass she always kept on the counter.

"As you will notice," Carina explained as she brushed a long lock of black hair behind her ear, "it is goblin-wrought silver, 14th century."

"How did you come into the possession of an engagement ring inscribed with the motto of the Fawley family?" Delphine asked. The Fawleys had been extremely powerful in the first half of the 1900s, reaching the pinnacle of power when Hector Fawley became Minister for Magic. Their power and family size diminished over time though. Now, except for magical historians, the Fawleys were only a distant memory.

In Delphine's line of work individuals who preferred to not reveal their full name were common. The trade of magical objects was layered with complexity, and often involved grey legal areas. Nevertheless, _Burke's_ was successful because Delphine had strict rules about what she would buy and sell. Burke's was no longer the den of Dark Magic it had been before Delphine bought it from her grand-father after the Wizarding Wars, and Delphine was determined to keep her store respectable. Carina having a rare, previously unknown, artifact from a forgotten pureblood family raised red flags for Delphine.

Carina's face remained a mask at Delphine's previous question. "It was given to me some years ago."

"You legally own it?"

"I would say so." The answer was too ambiguous for Delphine to be comfortable with.

"Would you sign a legal document to that effect?"

"Of course," Carina replied confidently

"Do you know any of the history behind it?" Delphine inquired, now curious to know the history of the ring.

"It was made on the request of Cortus Fawley for his fiancee, Lavinia Nott, in 1358. It was passed through the family since then. The Fawleys believed this ring had special properties, and it would charm the couple to bear sons." A sly expression fell upon Carina's face, "perhaps there was some truth in that statement. The ring disappeared in the 1900s, and there are no more Fawleys, are there?"

Delphine decided to ignore her visitor's satisfaction that the House of Fawley had disappeared and simply nodded. "I will buy the ring for 7,500 galleons."

"It is worth at least twice that, Madame Burke, and I am sure I can find other people willing to buy this ring," Carina disagreed. Both women knew Carina was right.

They bartered for several minutes, settling on the fair price of 13,500 galleons. Perhaps most valuable was the wary respect Delphine recognized in Carina's expression.

"I also have these items." Carina said, putting a large handbag onto the counter. She carefully withdrew two gaudy candelabras, a pair of diamond earrings, and a small mirror.

"The candelabras do not burn out, the earrings have basic protection charms, and the mirror can be used to temporarily blind people. I recommend not looking directly at it."

After arguing more about prices, Delphine paid Carina 2,287 galleons for the objects. They both believed it was fair.

Delphine handed Carina the paperwork she needed to fill out due to the size of the transaction.

"I do not suppose you are looking for an employee?" Carina asked while fiddling with the quill.

Delphine considered the young woman. While Delphine and her daughter, Veronica, managed the shop, Veronica had just given birth to a baby girl so Delphine knew Veronica would welcome more free time. "It would only be part-time, not fixed hours, and 3 galleons an hour." She informed Carina after a quick thought process.

"That is perfectly fine."

"Come back tomorrow at noon so I can test your knowledge."

"Thank you, Madame Burke," Carina smiled prettily, "now could you point me in the direction of the Apothecary?"

Delphine gave Carina the directions, although she found it odd the obviously British woman was unfamiliar with Diagon Alley.

"Thank you, I will return tomorrow," Carina said before she walked out the door. "If you need to reach me I put my address on the back of the form."

The bell rang to announce Carina's departure as Delphine examined the paperwork that had just been filled out. In lieu of a full name the signature was simply _Carina V. B. _The address was simple too: _Blackthorn House._

Delphine decided then she would hire this intriguing woman, if only to find out more.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Harry shuffled the papers on his desk. He had created a file labeled _Carina Black_ the moment Carina had disappeared from Grimmauld Place. Until last night the file had been empty, but his Aurors had just written up a report, so now he had a bare minimum of information.

_June 22nd, 2028_

_Official Auror Report_

_Subject: Carina Vela Black_

_Compiled by: Auror Philip Harbottle and Auror Scorpius Malfoy_

_Note: There are very few written records about Carina Vela Black. What we have learned is from Gringotts Records, DMLE Records, The Daily Prophet Archives, and Hogwarts Records._

_Carina Vela Black was born on March 21st, 1909 to Sirius Black II and Hesper Black (nee Gamp). Carina is the name of the constellation for the keel of the Argonaut's ship, and Vela is the constellation of the sail of the Argonaut's ship. _

_Carina was the fourth child of Mr. and Mrs. Black. Her elder brothers were Arcturus, Lycoris, and Regulus. Carina grew up at 12 Grimmauld Place._

_In 1919 Carina's uncle, Phineas Black, was disowned. He had grown increasingly vocal for Muggleborn Rights, and was considered a disgrace to the family. Carina was ten at the time._

_In 1920 Carina started at Hogwarts, and was Sorted into Slytherin. Carina was a Prefect, and then Head Girl. Her fellow Head-Boy was Miles Bickford-Smith, a Gryffindor. _

_The portraits in the Headmaster's Office did all comment that while a student at Hogwarts Carina would often meet for extra lessons with her Grandfather, Phineas Nigellus Black, who was then Headmaster of Hogwarts. But none of the portraits knew what the lessons were about, and Phineas Nigellus Black declined to comment._

_Carina graduated from Hogwarts on June 6th, 1927._

_As reported by The Daily Prophet, on December 1st, 1927, it was announced at a ball that Carina Vela Black was betrothed to Robert Hector Fawley. The wedding date was set for June 30th, 1928._

_On January 8th, 1928, Carina's brother, Lycoris, was found dead in a bar on Knockturn Alley. In Auror Records Lycoris' death is associated with alcohol poisoning. _

_Daily Prophet articles from late January to June suggest that the wedding of Carina and Robert Fawley was going to be the biggest society event in years. Hector Fawley, Robert's father, was also the Minister for Magic at the time._

_Following a May 30th Daily Prophet article on the flowers the Blacks were buying for the wedding there is no mention of Carina Black in The Daily Prophet ever again. The Prophet did not even run a notice to state the wedding of Robert Fawley and Carina Black was canceled. On June 11th 1928, Phineas Nigellus Black died. _

_In 2003, as part of the effort to promote transparency in the banking system, a vault in the name of Phineas Nigellus Black, that was supposed to be a fund for Carina Vela Black was seized, along with the deed for a home, which the Ministry never found. Beyond that, it appears the Wizarding World forgot Carina Black ever existed._

_Note: Attached is a note that was written to Carina Black upon the completion of Carina Black's NEWT Scores._

_Congratulations, Miss Black, on your stunning NEWT scores. Many of the Examiners commented on your advanced control of magic and your mature grasp of complex theory. Your overall NEWT scores are the highest in over a decade. I hope to see spectacular achievements from you, Miss Black._

_Yours Sincerely,_

_Celia Vance_

_Governor. Wizarding Examinations Authority_

Harry took a deep breath. Knowing that Carina Black was unreasonably intelligent did not make him feel more comfortable with her presence in his world. And this report also did not shed any light on why no one bloody knew about Carina.

Maybe Minerva's letter on the portrait would give him some answers.

_Dear Harry,_

_I examined the portrait that I believe held Miss Black. It does have strong magical signatures on it, but I am not certain it will reveal any relevant information. Of course, you can examine it yourself. But as Phineas Nigellus Black had the unfortunate foresight to use a Permanent Sticking Charm, you will need to visit Hogwarts to look at it. Write to me what your plans are. _

_Minerva McGonogall_

Harry put his face in his hands after reading the letter. In the ten days since Carina Black had suddenly arrived and quickly swirled out of Grimmauld Place she had been on his mind. In his experience, people with knowledge of Dark Magic being reincarnated was never good. Carina was not on par with Voldemort, but clearly if she wanted to she could create chaos in the society he had expended so much effort into keeping stable. And she was too similar to Bellatrix for Harry's liking.

A knock on his office door distracted Harry from revisiting the thoughts he had traveled through many times since meeting Carina Black.

Philip Harbottle, one of Harry's best Senior Aurors stepped into the office. "I got what you wanted."

"Great, anything out of the ordinary?" Harry had dispatched Harbottle to find out if Carina had bought anything from Diagon Alley. The goblins had blocked access to most of their Gringotts records, and the portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black was unusually quiet.

"Boss, why are you so obsessed with this one girl?" Harbottle demanded. "I did it, but writing a shopping list won't make me a housewife if that's what you're wanting."

"I just think it's a good idea to keep tabs on her. She's an unknown entity," Harry said, although he knew the explanation was empty.

"Well here's what she bought." Harbottle slapped a sheet of paper on Harry's desk. "She also spent time at _Burke's_, but Madame Burke said you'd have to come talk to her yourself, because she isn't in the habit of stalking young girls." Harbottle perpetually in a bad mood, so Harry ignored his grumpiness and peered down at the parchment.

_Black's Shopping List_

_\- 27 items from the Apothecary_

_\- 14 Books from Flourish and Blott's:_

_\- Subscriptions to 3 magazines_

_Altogether this equals 176 galleons, 3 sickles, and 8 knuts. _

"What does this mean?" Harry asked.

"What do you mean, what does this mean?"

"Her potions ingredients, what is your educated guess as to what she is making?"

Harbottle shrugged. "Either she's making an insane mega-potion or she just bought the potion ingredients for a lot of harmless potions. The only things that stand out are 176 galleons is a lot of money for one shopping spree, _Updated Theories of Transubstantial Transfiguration_ sounds like the most boring book in the cosmos, and Syrup of Hellebore costs almost 23 galleons a bottle. Also she didn't buy food or clothes or nothing, just potion ingredients and books. But I just don't know what you're looking for here, Boss." Harbottle seemed to realize that Harry didn't know what he was looking for either. "I'm going to work on my other cases now. Next time you want me to chase a random girl maybe make her closer to my own age, yeah?" He said while walking out the door.

Harry nodded absentmindedly and returned to studying the list.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Scorpius was baffled. The webbed cracks in the marble floor were minuscule, but Scorpius could not take his eyes off of them. Until he noticed the black scorch marks that formed a perfect circle. Then all the details started to flood his mind: the hardened green stain to the left of the right pillar, the tiny bottle-stopper, the unavoidable smell of flobberworm mucus, the eerie humming emanating from the Veil, and the heavy feel of magic in the air.

Scorpius had been in the midst of cooking Albus a frittata when the Patronus broke into their domestic bliss.

"Malfoy," Philip Harbottle's voice had risen from the silvery bloodhound, "Potter wants you to come in immediately. All hell has broken loose in the Department of Mysteries. I don't care what you're doing, just hurry your arse here."

Scorpius had immediately scribbled Albus a brief note to take the frittata out of the oven when the timer beeped and Apparated to the Auror Offices without taking his apron off.

At the Auror Offices Warren Cautney had snidely mentioned Scorpius's apron. Scorpius would not deign to attend to the opinion of someone who smelled perpetually of greasy sausage. But he was still prepared enough to have spare Auror robes in his desk. So Scorpius arrived at the Department of Mysteries immaculately dressed, as always.

Although there were only five people, with Scorpius making a sixth, hell was indeed breaking loose in the Department of Mysteries. The Head Unspeakable was furiously arguing with Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt and Harry. Hermione Granger-Weasley was speaking at an extreme pace to Philip Harbottle. Scorpius decided he would rather be anywhere else. But he still had a job to do.

"Pardon me," he said politely to Hermione, "what happened here?"

"Look around, Scorpius," Hermione said, sounding weary, "because I wish I knew. Somehow this room was compromised. We don't know a Who, What, Where, or Why, and we barely have a When. Harry has some suspicions, but frankly," Hermione lowered her voice so not even Harbottle could overhear, "I think his suspicious are bordering ridiculous. He's just gotten paranoid over that girl who's working with Delphine Burke. But the level of magic to break the marble floor? I just don't think one person could've done that." Hermione shrugged and pursed her lips, "but I suppose there's a reason Harry's Head of the Auror Department. He has good instincts. I doubt it matters though, it's going to be enormously difficult for him to find sufficient evidence to bring anyone in for an interview. This will probably just go down as a freak accident from the high level of volatile magic in the area."

"Should I still look around and take notes then?" Scorpius wondered.

"Record everything you notice," Hermione agreed. "And then try to identify that green substance on the floor."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

**AN: Second chapter! This chapter is mostly setting the stage for future events. I'll post the third chapter tomorrow! **

**In the third chapter we finally meet James. **

**Here's a snippet:**

["I thought Blacks didn't have jobs beside being absolute arseholes and oppressing muggleborns."

Carina's aristocratic hauteur increased. "I cannot imagine why you are clinging to the notion that I am a spoilt 'pureblood princess' despite the information I have thus revealed to you. My personality is not disposed to inactivity, especially after a century of mind-numbing boredom."

"I don't actually know anything about you beyond what's outlined in this letter.]

**Reviews make me happy!**

**3 **


	3. Chapter 3

Sirius wished he hadn't opened his eyes. Perhaps if he returned to the darkness he would wake up to a different version of heaven. Because never had he imagined the afterlife would take place in Blackthorn House.

Blackthorn House was an interesting part of the Black legacy. It was certainly beautiful, its ethereal symmetry surrounded by vibrant lawns and lush gardens. It was a wonder that nature flourished, instead of withering away due to the poison contained within the luminous marble walls. Old magical artifacts lay menacingly in corners, while malicious books that should never be read were organized carefully in the proud library.

Blackthorn was centuries of years old, yet timeless in its evil. It had been the original home of the Blacks, before Grimmauld Place was built in London. Redlake Manor had also been built, when the Blacks had required a place to entertain society. Because no non-Black would ever be allowed to sully the sinister halls of Blackthorn.

Sirius's father had taken him to Blackthorn once, just months before Sirius ran away, in a futile effort to convince Sirius that being a Black was something to proud of. Before going to Blackthorn Sirius was already uncomfortably familiar with Dark Magic. The trip had shown him there was were types of magic so dark they weren't even fit for his most terrifying nightmares. The only person Sirius had told about Blackthorn was James, right after he had run away from Grimmauld Place and the words had tumbled out of him in a crashing waterfall of rambling explanations. After he broke out of Azkaban he was certain Blackthorn was compromised. There was no way either Bellatrix or Regulus wouldn't have offered up the trove of manuscripts and dark objects to the Dark Lord.

Sirius had to be in hell, although it was unexpected that hell was equipped with a pillow so fluffy it could be mistaken for a cloud. But Blackthorn must be hell; it was impossible such an evil place could be heaven.

Sirius groaned. He closed his eyes again and nearly slipped back into darkness, but a feminine voice roused him. "You woke up sooner than I thought you would."

"Is this hell?" Sirius croaked, without opening his eyes.

"It feels as if it is sometimes," the woman said wryly. "But no, this is real life."

"Then why does it look like Blackthorn?" Sirius said as he finally reopened his eyes.

Sirius flinched because standing above his bed was a woman whose grey eyes, thick black hair, and aristocratic cheekbones could only lead to a single, damning conclusion: she was a Black.

"Who the bloody hell are you?" He questioned. Then another, even more pressing question entered his mind. "Where the fuck is Harry?" Sirius, with every bone in his body, needed to find his godson. He struggled weakly to move out of bed despite the lethargy weighing on his limbs, but a firm hand pushed down on his chest.

"I NEED TO SEE HARRY!" Sirius roared, desperately wondering where his bloody wand was. "I don't know who the fuck you are, but you don't . . . you just don't understand! Harry was fighting, and I was fighting, in the Department of Mysteries! FUCKING MERLIN! I was fighting Bellatrix. . . . And that's all I remember, but I need to make sure Harry's alright!"

"Sirius," the woman's crisp and authoritative voice somehow made Sirius feel mollified, "your godson is fine. I had the distinct pleasure of seeing him just a week and half ago in Grimmauld Place."

"THAT BLOODY ELF!" Sirius shouted, the mention of Grimmauld Place had reminded him of Kreacher.

"I do not have a House-Elf."

"Bloody Kreacher betrayed me! It's the only explanation for Harry not knowing where I was!"

The woman still looked puzzled, and her raised eyebrow was so reminiscent of an expression Sirius had seen on his Cousin Narcissa's face that he was reminded of his original question. "And who in the name of Merlin's saggy balls are you?"

"Call me Carina."

"Sure, but who are you?" Sirius pressed, "and how did you get me to Blackthorn? Only Blacks can get to Blackthorn, but I have no idea who you are." A sudden thought leaped into Sirius's mind. It was so deeply terrible that Sirius needed to say it aloud so the horror would not be constrained within him; "are you Bellatrix's secret love-child?"

"Oh, no, goodness no! That miserable dingbat could not mother a flobberworm!" The sound started as a small giggle but slowly built to a full chuckle, and then ended as an exhilarated peal of laughter. Sirius joined in too, mostly out of relief.

Once the mirth ended Sirius's question remained, "not Bellatrix and Voldemort's bastard then, but still, who are you?"

"Carina Vela Black." The answer was clear and simple, and though Sirius had anticipated that she was a Black, he was still surprised by the answer.

"How?" It was a simple question, but Sirius knew there was no way in hell he was going to receive a simple answer.

"You know how the House of Black is the absolute quintessence of everything that is wrong in this world?" Carina asked as she perched herself on the edge of his large bed.

"Yeah." Sirius would have put it differently, perhaps with the addition of well placed swears, but the meaning was there.

"I was trapped in a portrait for one hundred years. And for that matter, you have been inside the Veil in the Department of Mysteries for thirty-two years."

Sirius's brain malfunctioned. He could feel the soft coverlet beneath his hand, hear the steady breathing of Carina, smell the incongruous scent of daffodils. But he could not think, could not manage to understand how 32 years had passed.

Carina winced. "I wish there were a better way to phrase that."

"What year is it?" It took all of Sirius's intelligence to engineer that one sentence.

"2028."

"Bloody hell. How old are you?"

"19 or 119. I am not sure how to measure it."

"Shite. Who are your parents?"

"Hesper Gamp was my mother, Sirius Black was my father." The darkest hint of humor tinged Carina's answer.

Sirius chuckled because there was nothing left for him to do. "Our family is so fucking insane."

"Really, Sirius, you have no idea." Carina replied. Sirius gave her a look filled to the brim with skepticism, he had every idea of how deranged the Blacks were. So Carina explained further, "Phineas Nigellus Black was my grandfather, and he was the one to lock me in a portrait."

"Why?" Sirius asked, because focusing on the complications of Carina's world was easier than being reminded of his own preposterous life story.

His question lay heavy between them for several moments, as Carina steadily gazed at the wall above Sirius's head and twisted the ring on her left hand. The movement attracted Sirius's eyes to her hands. On her left hand was a silver signet ring that was engraved with an unfamiliar rune. Her right hand was adorned with another ring, a silver band of small sapphires.

Sirius was startled when suddenly her hand lightly grasped his. "Can I trust you, Sirius?" Carina's voice was desperate and pleading, intense despite her low tone.

"Can I trust _you_?" Sirius returned, wondering where this conversation was going, and thinking that if he was going to bare his soul he would rather be outside the clutches of Blackthorn House.

"I feel a certain affinity between us though I certainly do not know you," Carina began, and her words were slow and obviously chosen carefully. "But we are cousins, and neither of us belong in this time, and above all we both have been . . . damaged . . . by our family's antics."

Sirius thought that made sense, and said so to Carina. She nodded and withdrew a yellowed scroll out of her robes. "When I arrived at Blackthorn after being trapped for a century I found this letter, from my grandfather. I suppose he thought it sufficed as an explanation," Carina said bitterly while handing it to Sirius. She motioned that he should read the letter. And though Sirius had just awoken from unconsciousness he summoned the willpower to read the curling handwriting, because Carina was right, there was a strange affinity between them.

_Dear Carina, _

_I imagine you are frightfully upset with me, as if you are reading this then you have finished your time in the portrait. Be sure that I did not lightly undertake the decision to keep you in a portrait. I am sure that once you understand my reasoning your anger will be lessened. _

_I often wonder why, when my other grandchildren were bumbling weaklings, you were precocious and intelligent. Likely you had to be, growing up in the shadow of your brothers, Arcturus, Regulus, and Lycoris. Not to mention, you were confined by your father's continual obliviousness to your potential, as a result of your unforgivable femininity. Like a true Black you had the fortitude to flourish under these conditions. _

_I realized your aptitude when you were nine and with accidental magic locked Arcturus in a cabinet for two hours. He was seventeen, and still could not manage to get out. My observation that you were a remarkable example of Black superiority was proven when you attended Hogwarts, especially after your Fourth Year. Your OWLs and NEWTs were exemplary. _

_I have always been one for careful and methodical planning, but my decision to show you Blackthorn, and the family treasures hidden there, was spontaneous. I had little time to regret my action, because you quickly showed compatibility with the blood magic I taught you. _

_Despite your intellect I was reconciled to the idea of you marrying a good pureblood man and raising children who would be proud of their Black lineage. I concluded that I would make a key to Blackthorn, which I would give to either your father or your brother, Arcturus. Of course it would be impossible to replicate the enchanted silver signet ring you possess, which is the key that allows you infinite access to Blackthorn. But we were the only living people who knew of its existence, so I could easily give a sufficient talisman to someone else. _

_I was reasonably content with this plan, until your father grew too presumptuous with your future. It would have been fair for you to choose someone of good standing and marry them. Instead, for the sake of petty political power in the Wizengamot that he would not be competent enough to take full advantage of, your father decided you should marry that useless ponce, Robert Fawley. I could not stomach any Black having to spend a lifetime with that worthless family. But for once in his life your father showed backbone and was steadfast in his decision._

_Because of my irreconcilable frustrations with your father, I did not gift him a key to Blackthorn. Rather, I gifted it to Arcturus. I imagine he will have given the key to his eldest son, who gave it his eldest son and so forth. You own Blackthorn, but I suggest you find out which Black is in possession of the key. _

_I gave Arcturus the key after I put you in the portrait. In truth putting you in the portrait was a rogue idea in the deep recesses of my mind until I saw you performing blood magic with such impressive alacrity. A woman who could cast those spells would be wasted as the wife of Robert Fawley. I only hope that given a new beginning you will be able to make use of the full talents your Black blood has gifted you with. _

_Your predilection for magic was not the only reason I took unusual steps to protect you. Last year I was tracking down a particular book on the Ananke Ritual when I came across an old Seer who gave me a Prophecy:_

_power, gold, and blood, I know what you own_

_I know the sun will soon set on it all_

_with every heir under a tombstone_

_the House of Black no more than a recall_

_your stars will all die, their names reviled_

_the House of Black the only one at fault_

_and to all this you must be reconciled_

_as their is no fight against Destiny's assault_

_but if kept safe bright star will shine anew_

_moved by they who knows what a House stands for_

_all of blood, mind, body, and soul, magic through_

_ they will be able to heal the long ago yore_

_but their time will be full of unkindness_

_there is only protection through shrewdness_

_I puzzled over this. The biggest question in my mind was who 'she' was. Perhaps Belvina was a candidate. But while your Aunt Belvina is a charming girl, she is unsuited to self-reliance. Really, you were the only option for the identity of 'she'._

_You likely object with my methods of keeping you safe. It is unorthodox to design a spell to keep someone in a portrait for one hundred years. The spell was a hybrid of many different charms, with a bit of transfiguration, so that you would become part of the portrait without compromising your soul, brain, body, or most importantly, your magic. I hope you liked my touch of adding a replica of the Hogwarts Library to your portrait, and a cauldron and potions ingredients. In a sense that portrait was your own world. Hogwarts is the safest place I could think of for a charmed portrait. And although I put a Silencing Charm on the portrait itself, I put it in the Great Hall, so you could be amused by the idiocy of Hogwarts students. _

_By the time you read this I will have Obliviated members of the family, your social acquaintances, and changed the tapestry. The complete erasure of your presence from the minds of our society is impossible. But as long as I Obliviated enough people that no one wondered about your disappearance, or puzzled over your portrait, then I am satisfied. _

_Now that you are at Blackthorn, there are infinite possibilities to what you can do. You have all of the Wizarding World to bend to your will. And if you are in a time when the Black Fortune and Legacy has indeed been damaged, I know I can trust you to rebuild it to its rightful stature. Good luck to you, my dear Carina, may Salazar Slytherin's cunning be with you always._

_Sincerely,_

_Your Grandfather,_

_Phineas Nigellus Black_

Sirius sucked in deep breath. "So you're here to return the Blacks to their, what was it, rightful stature?" He asked, his mind swirling wildly while trying to comprehend the implications of the letter.

"I do not know what I am here to do," Carina admitted quietly.

"This letter just makes you seem like a pureblood princess who knows too much blood magic," Sirius spat, irrationally angry.

"I am a pureblood princess who knows too much blood magic," Carina retorted. "But I am neither a blood purist nor a bigot. Perhaps I was prejudiced when I was trapped in the portrait, but I had one hundred years to reflect and change my opinions."

"You still know too much blood magic."

"Blood magic is not always harmful, Sirius. I used blood magic to retrieve you from the Veil."

"You saved me from the Veil?" Sirius asked. It was only possible conclusion, yet it had not occurred to him that _someone_ had to have saved him.

"Yes, I was able to use blood magic to Summon you back into this dimension from the In-between. The retrieval was only possible because we are related, as it is complicated blood magic."

"Oh, well thanks," Sirius said uncomfortably.

"Neither of us had particularly smooth returns to this world," Carina commented, graciously bypassing his awkward gratitude. "I had the misfortune of first encountering people immediately after I got out of the portrait, while I was freshly livid at what had been through. I yelled at no fewer people than Minerva McGonogall, Harry Potter, and Scorpius Malfoy. I also performed blood magic inside Grimmauld Place so that I would be revealed on the tapestry. Your godson was extremely concerned."

"How is Harry?" Sirius asked as another urgent thought entered his brain. "So You-Know-Who is defeated, the war is over? Harry's okay? How's Moony?"

"Voldemort is dead. Harry is Head of the Auror Office, married to Ginny Weasley, and has three children named James, Albus, and Lily. If by Moony you mean your friend, Remus Lupin, then he, and many others, died in the final battle at Hogwarts. I believe he has a son." An emptiness filled Sirius's stomach and a heavy lump appeared in his throat, but Carina continued, "to be honest, Sirius, I have only been in this world for two weeks, and I have isolated myself from it. I have no idea how to begin the process of reintegrating myself into society."

If she imagined Sirius had the answers she was sorely mistaken. The only thing Sirius was good at was lurking in the shadows as an overly large dog. In search of something else to say Sirius glanced back at the letter in his hand. His eyes flitted to the prophecy.

"Any ideas on this prophecy?"

Carina drew herself up and Sirius didn't think the bloody Queen of England could look as disdainful as his newly introduced cousin, "Divination is a useless enterprise and prophecies are self-fulfilling. I have no intention of using an arbitrary sonnet as my life-guide." Sirius easily spotted that Carina did not believe her own words, but decided he didn't want to discuss fate and destiny so soon after being freed from a mysterious veil in the Department of Mysteries.

"What do you intend to do?" Sirius questioned instead.

"I actually have a job," Carina disclosed, surprising Sirius.

"I thought Blacks didn't have jobs beside being absolute arseholes and oppressing muggleborns."

Carina's aristocratic hauteur increased. "I cannot imagine why you are clinging to the notion that I am a spoilt 'pureblood princess' despite the information I have thus revealed to you. My personality is not disposed to inactivity, especially after a century of mind-numbing boredom."

"I don't actually know anything about you beyond what's outlined in this letter," Sirius pointed out.

"What do you want to know?" Carina queried stiffly.

"I'm not sure."

Carina scoffed.

"Where do you work?" Sirius asked the first question that came to mind.

"I work at _Borgin & Burke's,_ except it is now simply _Burke's_, and is decidedly less problematic than its predecessor. I help identify the objects that pass through the store."

"Do you like it there?"

"I enjoy it."

Another awkward silence ensued so Sirius looked back at the letter. "What were your brothers like?"

Carina's gaze drifted away from Sirius. "Arcturus hated me. I hated Lycoris. Regulus was fine."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "You're terrible at talking about yourself," he accused, "and I know all about troubled sibling relationships. I doubt you can shock me with your descriptions of how fucked up the Blacks are."

Carina's expression tightened. "Arcturus Crucioed me when I had better OWL scores than him."

"My mother Crucioed me when I returned home for Christmas break my First Year because I was a Gryffindor," Sirius returned. "Bellatrix Crucioed me after I ran away from home."

"Great-Aunt Elladora tried to kill me so she could make a Horcrux."

"Bellatrix tried to off me all the time," Sirius muttered. "Batshit insane witches seem to be common in this family,"

"Hopefully I am not one of them," Carina said as she looked away from Sirius.

"You seem alright."

"I just," Carina hid her face in her hands, muffling her words, "I have done horrible things, Sirius."

Sirius was silent for a moment. He knew his family. Sirius should be afraid that Carina had nefarious plans for him. But Sirius had always trusted his gut, and Carina just seemed like a lost and confused young woman.

"Look," Sirius said finally, causing Carina to look at him, her eyes red. "We all make mistakes. But you admit that you're not infallible, and that makes you different from all the other fucking crazy people in our family, like Bellatrix, who would kill people and be proud of themselves. You're not like that."

"Thank you," Carina whispered softly.

"This is a fucking crazy situation, though? I just want to make sure you realize how bloody _abnormal_ it is that you fell out of a portrait and promptly saved me from a goddamn veil."

Carina snickered, "all I want is normal, Sirius. But normality always seems out of reach."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

_(From Veronica Burke to James Potter)_

_Dear James, _

_Once again I am the absolute sorriest for taking so long to respond to your letter. Even though you are gallivanting about Peru as a curse-breaker, you still find time to write letters to Zeno and me, and to send our little Haydee a gift. I should to write a thank you letter to Harry and Ginny Potter for raising such wonderful children even while faced with the formidable obstacle of combined Potter and Weasley genes! All of which is to say, you are a good friend and I appreciate you very much. _

_I will admit that Haydee only cares about sleep and food, so she has not yet noticed the stuffed miniature hippogriff you sent her. But never fear because Zeno is obsessed with it. It really makes so much sense that my husband has a career designing jokes. _

_Mum hired an employee at the shop, so I now have more time to spend with Haydee, which is a welcome change. The employee's name is Carina, and we do not know her last name. Your father actually wanted Mum to fire Carina, but then Mum got in a big fight with him, actually two fights. Of course, Mum won the arguments and now Carina works with us. It has only been a few weeks, but it has been such a blessing to have someone knowledgeable pick up the work I've been neglecting since Haydee was born. Besides, Mum says Carina is far from the strangest person she's ever met, and that it is better for Carina to have given us no last name than a fake one. _

_As would be suspected of someone with no last name, Carina is an enigma._ _We don't know where she was schooled. She seems British and sometimes references Hogwarts, but I don't think she attended because we would have overlapped with her. She seems very learned, although sometimes surprisingly ignorant of current events, which is startling especially as she reads the news voraciously. Her runic knowledge is practically unparalleled. Even Mum is continually impressed with her skill in identifying objects. Beyond this, I still do not know anything about her, except she is knows a lot about blood magic. And I think she might own a dog._

_Though I believed Carina was a complete bitch at first, we get along fairly well now. But I don't think you care about my odd coworker, so instead I will tell you that Zeno is working on a joke product at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes that he thinks you'll love. But he's keeping a secret from even me, so if you want to know more you'll have to write to your Uncle George. _

_Zeno, Haydee, and I all send our best regards dearest James. Please stay safe in all your curse-breaking adventures! We miss you very much. I know I say this every letter, but it has been two years too long, please, please, please, come home! _

_Love,  
Veronica_

_(From James Potter to Veronica Burke)_

_Veronica,_

_I'll keep sending Haydee toy hippogriffs until she's forced to take notice. Nothing less for MY goddaughter. Tell Zeno he's a grown man, and the hippogriff isn't meant for him._

_Your new employee does sound unique. But I don't know why you expected normal in your line of work. Silly girl. _

_Curse-breaking was smashing until I caught the wrong end of a cursed staircase. Now I'm in a hospital in Lima trying to make sure my legs stay attached to my torso. I seem to have bad luck with injuries._

_You'll be delighted to know I'm fond of my legs, and have decided to take an indefinite hiatus from Peruvian curse-breaking so I can fully appreciate having all four limbs. Also Albus said that he's tired of writing letters, and if he must he would come to Peru and kidnap me home. As if that dramatic boy could handle this moldy hospital. I've kindly decided to spare him the pain of smelling hospital fumes. _

_So I'm coming home, and I'm going to steal my goddaughter from you fools. Catch me at the Ministry Department for International Arrivals on July 20th at 7:08 in the morning. I'll be bringing more toy hippogriffs for Haydee. Maybe if I'm in a good mood I'll also bring something for you and Zeno. _

_All my love,_

_James_

_P.S. __Give my love to Zeno._

_P.P.S. __Uncle George is infamous for not spilling what his jokes-in-progress are about. But I believe in your sleuthing abilities. If anyone can get the truth of this new joke project out of Zeno it's you. Best of luck._

_P.P.P.S. __I found a stray cat wandering around the hospital here so I'm bringing home a spunky Peruvian cat. I've named her Leopoldina. I am sure you realize (or at least Zeno would realize) I am naming her after Leopoldina Smethwyck, the first British witch to referee a Quidditch match, and the person on the first Chocolate Frog card I ever got. I'll probably call her Polly, though._

_P.P.P.P.S. __I hope I can take care of a cat. _

_. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ._

**AN: So that's the third chapter. What did you think of Sirius? **

**The fourth chapter will be posted this weekend. I really like the fourth chapter, and I hope you will all enjoy too. As usual, here's your snippet:**

["I know who Sirius Black is, Gran," Victoire said. "I am wondering what he is doing in my kitchen."]

**Why do you think Victoire and Sirius will meet?**

**Reviews make me happy!**


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Just to clarify, in case anyone is confused by the Black Family Tree, Phineas Nigellus Black is Carina's grandfather. Phineas Nigellus Black is Sirius and Andromeda's great-great-grandfather. Carina's parents are Sirius Black II and Hesper Gamp. Thus, Sirius Orion Black (the Sirius we know and love) is Carina's grand-nephew (and also her first cousin three times removed because of all that incest). Andromeda Tonks is Carina's first cousin three times removed. Sorry if that is confusing. Now, on with the story:**

The next weeks did nothing to dampen Sirius's loathing of Blackthorn. At first he thought fixing the destroyed west wing would be a good project to distract himself with.

"What are you doing?" Carina's crisp words broke through Sirius's focus on cleaning the burnt ceiling. "You do not strike me as one with an affinity for house-hold charms."

Sirius swung around to look at Carina, who was standing in the doorway, the only crease in her impeccably neat blue robes from her hand on her hip.

"You just got back from work," he deduced.

"Yes, and not soon enough. Some useless knob-head nearly set fire to the store so he could be certain the fire-proof cloak worked."

"Twit."

"Madame Burke was pleased with a purchase of magical jewelry, so the day was not completely futile," Carina noted.

Sirius gestured at the ruined west wing, "my day was. I thought cleaning soot would be a good project, but this shit is stubborn."

"It is from _brenningfyre_, I believe."

"_Brenningfyre?_" Sirius tugged at his shaggy hair as his mind drifted back to Seventh Year Defense Against the Dark Arts, "a curse related to _fiendfyre,_ causes the victim to explode into flames." Sirius did not need to mention it was a dark curse. "Why the hell was _brenningfyre _being thrown around in here?"

Carina pursed her lips, words spilling unwillingly out of her, "From the magical signatures here, as well as conversations I had with some portraits, I have ascertained that Orion, Alphard, and Cygnus Black fought in here. That is how Alphard died. I believe Orion and Cygnus abandoned Blackthorn because they thought it had all burnt down."

Sirius surveyed the space he had spent the afternoon in and swallowed the lump in his throat. He had always assumed his kindhearted Uncle Alphard had died of old age. Even in those days, when war was creeping into everyone's lives, no one suspected Uncle Alphard had been murdered. "Uncle Alphard was a good man," he said quietly. Sirius would always be grateful for the man who had supported him when the rest of his family didn't.

"I am sure he was. If you wish to continue cleaning the west wing I will not help you. I prefer to forget about this part of Blackthorn."

"I prefer to forget about all of Blackthorn," Sirius grumbled, feeling the sudden urge to vacate the house immediately.

"I have bad memories of this place too," Carina snapped. "And you can leave anytime." Sirius knew Carina often wondered why he stayed in Blackthorn, instead of seeing his loved ones, especially since Sirius had been officially pardoned after the war, so he was no longer considered a criminal. Sirius did not have an answer, just an unsettled feeling that it had been 32 years and he barely knew himself in this new world, much less the people from his past.

"I'm going to go for a walk outside," Sirius announced.

"That is your perogative."

It was several hours before Sirius, soaked from the pouring rain, returned to Blackthorn. He found Carina pouring over a book of runes in the library.

"Do you think we'll ever escape the damn memories?" He demanded, his voice harsher than he intended. He ignored the water dripping from his hair and instead stared at his cousin.

"No, I wish. . . ." Her voice trailed off, and her gaze drifted to an imposing portrait of some Black ancestor.

"You wish?" Sirius prompted.

"I do not know," Carina admitted heavily, dragging her hand through her long tousled hair. "I suppose we need to make new memories."

Memories of the war still plagued Sirius. To him it felt like only a few weeks since he had been trapped in Grimmauld Place, his only news from visiting members of the Order of the Phoenix. His memories of Azkaban were also achingly fresh. Sirius went through periods of mourning and melancholy. Carina took all Sirius's moods in stride, because while their lives had been very different, they somehow understood each other. Both of them were trying to grapple with the new time they had unexpectedly arrived in.

Despite being immersed in his memories and the negative aura of Blackthorn, Sirius created a routine that suited him. Upon waking up, usually around eight, he enjoyed a quick breakfast with Carina. When Carina went to work, Sirius, as a dog, accompanied her to Diagon Alley. Sirius was forever thankful for the freedom being Padfoot gave him. When he wasn't napping in the sun dappled laws outside Blackthorn, investigating the bit of forest on the edge of the property, or unsuccessfully trying to catch goldfish in one of the fountains, he would explore Diagon Alley or Muggle London. Sometimes he would sit outside the Ministry of Magic and spot people from his past life.

Later in the afternoon Sirius would return to _Burke's. _Madame Burke was pleased with Carina's knowledge on magical artifacts, so Carina had begun working longer and more regular hours.

After work, Sirius and Carina would return to Blackthorn and eat whatever food Carina had bought. They ate a lot of frozen lasagna from an Italian restaurant in Diagon Alley. After dinner he would spend time with Carina. She had been utterly shocked when Sirius revealed his Animagus form, and had immediately begged Sirius to teach her how to become an Animagus. It was depressing for Sirius and Carina to bond through trading stories of their dismal childhoods, so instead they bonded over a shared amazement of the intricacies of magic. Although Sirius still shied away from the darker forms of magic that Carina was fascinated by.

Carina was perpetually somber, so Sirius made a challenge of trying to hear her bubbling laugh. Usually stories of his pranks and misadventures at Hogwarts would amuse Carina. One story of James trying to lure every cat in Hogwarts into their dorm room made Carina laugh until tears leaked out of her eyes. Sirius had to admit the image of James keeping upwards of fifty cats in their room for a few hours was funny. Even more hilarious was how an aghast Lily Evans, in search of her own cat, had opened their door, only for a herd of cats to race out of the room and down the stairs.

Sirius was also surprised by how competitive Carina was at Gobstones and Exploding Snap. They shared a disgust of Wizarding Chess, probably because they were both forced to play it for hours as children so that even at chess, a Black would prove themselves superior.

Blackthorn was no Azkaban or Grimmauld Place, but Sirius still found it confining and claustrophobic. He enjoyed venturing to nearby Muggle towns, especially Muggle bars. A few times Sirius even convinced Carina to accompany him to a shop or a bar.

Sirius wasn't unhappy, but he felt empty. He mentioned this to Carina at dinner.

She pushed her asparagus around her bone china plate, "I do not know what answer you are looking for, Sirius. You know many people in this time, you could reconnect instead of sitting outside the Ministry of Magic for hours at a time."

Sirius drained the last gulp of wine from his glass, "I wish my life weren't so damn complicated."

Carina's expression became challenging. "I have no idea how you feel," she said dryly.

Sirius looked down at his plate and frowned at his asparagus. After having failed miserably at being a semblance of a role model for Regulus, and having been too involved in his own angst to be a real father-figure to Harry, Sirius was filled with regret. Now, he was trying to be an older brother for Carina, which was difficult when Sirius remembered she was 119 years old. "How's work?" He asked, trying to bypass his own self-created issues.

"Fine." Carina carefully placed her utensils on the side of her plate. "Veronica has been especially distracted because her friend is moving back to England. Her friend is James Potter, Harry's son."

A lump formed in Sirius's throat and he looked away from Carina. Even if he lived for a millennium Sirius would never recover from the murder of his best friend, the first James Potter.

"I believe he is visiting the shop tomorrow if you want a glance." Carina said.

"I can't believe I'm going to bloody stalk my best friend's grandson," Sirius spat.

"You could introduce yourself," Carina advised, far too rationally. "I am the one who broke dozens of laws so I could Summon you from the Veil, not you."

The thought of seeing Harry, or Harry's family, after all these years gnawed at Sirius's stomach. That would be a strange reunion.

"I'm going to bed," Sirius decided.

"It is seven o'clock."

"A good night's rest is important."

Carina rolled her eyes.

As it happened, Sirius slept restlessly until the early morning, at which point he finally fell asleep. He did not wake up for breakfast with Carina.

After Sirius had gotten dressed and eaten toast, he realized it was not hunger making him uncomfortable, it was the shame from not seeing Carina in the morning and his bad mood at dinner.

Sirius decided to check on Carina.

Navigating Diagon Alley as a dog was a delight for Sirius, and he took his time investigating and smelling everything before he came upon _Burke's_.

A customer with a long dirty beard exited the shop, so Sirius slipped inside before the door closed. When Sirius had first visited the shop he had been surprised by how cozy it was. Light filtered in through windows that were decorated with elegant sky blue curtains. Polished wood was everywhere, but not overwhelming. Objects for sale were placed on every available surface, but were interspersed with plush leather armchairs. Scattered on the floor were all sorts of rugs Delphine had collected on her travels, and some tapestries were also hung on the walls. It was an eclectic mix of patterns, colors, and materials, that had the effect of creating a warm, tasteful atmosphere with a hint of mystery and magic.

Carina, wearing her black robes, fit the mystery and magic of the shop. She was stationed behind a wooden counter, looking through a heavy book and occasionally making notes in it with her quill.

Delphine Burke, looking neat and elegant as always, though unusually pale, appeared from the employee's room behind the counter.

"Carina, I've just finished checking our monthly inventory. You are writing the descriptions for the new products?"

"Yes, I am working on it right now."

"I am feeling a bit off, so I am going to have a lie down. Do notify me once Veronica and James get here. I trust you can keep everything from falling apart till then."

"Are you feeling alright?" Carina sounded concerned.

"A nap will do me good, but I am fine," Delphine insisted. "How does your dog appear here every once in a while?"

Carina looked pleased once she spotted Sirius in the corner.

"What is his name?"

Carina shrugged helplessly. "Dog?"

Sirius barked while Delphine chuckled, "I think he deserves a better name, Carina."

"Black Dog?" Carina suggested.

"Hopefully you will think of something better while I am sleeping," Delphine noted, before disappearing into the back room.

Sirius trotted over behind the counter and nudged Carina's leg with his forehead. She absentmindedly scratched the area behind his ear.

"You were not at breakfast," Carina murmured.

Sirius hoped his soft bark resembled an apology.

"How do I describe a Russian tea kettle that makes whomever drinks tea made in it float in the air?" Carina wondered aloud. "It seems as if it belongs in Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. Let me think, 'this beautifully decorated tea kettle is perfect if you want people to hate you.' No not quite right. Hmmm, which is better: 'If you want an unforgettable tea-party, use this delicate Russian tea kettle' or 'this wondrous tea-kettle will add excitement to even the most mind-numbing tea party?"

Sirius lay down and put his head on Carina's shoes, leaving just his tail to wag against the floor.

"Perhaps I am destined to work in a joke shop," Carina mused wryly. "On to the next item, this silver bracelet from Peru."

This continued for thirty or so minutes more, and in the warm atmosphere Sirius almost dozed off, until he was startled by the sharp ringing of the bell announcing visitors.

"Hello, Carina," Sirius recognized Veronica Burke's light voice.

"Good morning. Madame Burke is taking a quick nap in the break room. She wanted you to wake her up once you arrived. I am just finishing up the item descriptions." There was a pause, and then Carina said, "hello, Mr. Potter."

Sirius, still laying on the floor, froze when Carina said Mr. Potter.

"And also Mr. Potter," said an unfamiliar person with a cheery voice. "Although most call me James. You must be the newest employee here. Causing lots of trouble, I hope?"

Sirius's hearing was heightened when he was a dog, so he was able to make out Harry mutter, "too much."

"I am Carina, it is a pleasure to meet you. You should know how excited Veronica has been to see you."

"Oh, don't go spilling all my secrets," Veronica teased.

"I would have to know those secrets to be in danger of spilling them," Carina replied, a small smile tangible from her voice. Sirius knew Veronica was one of the few people Carina felt comfortable with.

"Perhaps another day I'll tell you all of Veronica's darkest secrets," James Potter suggested.

"James, don't be a menace right away," Veronica cautioned, "at least wait a day or two. I think I am going to wake Mum from her nap so we can get a spot of lunch. Don't ruin anything while I'm away for the moment." Veronica focused back on Carina, "you're sure Mum was napping? That's unlike her."

"She said she was feeling a bit off," Carina explained.

"Hmmm, I'll be right back then," Veronica excused herself. James and Harry took the time to look at some of the items in the store.

"Dad, Carina doesn't seem insane," James whispered to Harry. Although Sirius heard it with his strong Animagus hearing, he was sure Carina hadn't.

"Just wait," Harry said.

Then all hell broke loose.

If someone later asked Sirius to describe the chaos that erupted he would only be able to give a vague account.

Veronica's piercing shriek still rang in his ears afterwards, as did the crash of the Russian tea kettle James had been examining. Sirius knew James and Veronica had Apparated with Delphine Burke's limp body to St. Mungo's, but he didn't know if that was before or after Harry accused Carina of poisoning Delphine.

Horrifyingly clear in Sirius's mind was Carina's helpless expression and the terror in her wide eyes as Harry clapped a hand on her thin shoulder and harshly announced, "I'm bringing you in for questiong."

Sirius barked and ran from the shadow of the counter, but the only thing left in the shop were the broken china pieces from the kettle sitting desolately on the rug.

Sirius transformed back into human form and swore heavily.

Minutes of worry later, Sirius found himself on the doorstep of a neat house on the outskirts of a Muggle town. He rang the doorbell and fought against his strong urge to become a dog and run away.

The door opened. Sirius couldn't help but grin, relieved at the sight of his cousin, "hullo, Andy. It's been awhile."

Andromeda Black Tonks had aged elegantly, despite the fine lines on her face and strands of silver in her dark hair. Her robes were vintage, but well made, and she wore them well. They stared at each other, making Sirius afraid that Andy would scold him.

"You son of a bitch." Andy greeted him. "The gall of you to appear on my doorstep after being dead for thirty-two years. I should not be surprised the rules of death did not apply to you."

"If it makes you feel better, I wasn't really dead. I was in limbo or something, not quite certain on the details."

"Come in for a cuppa and explain it to me," Andy ushered Sirius inside. After fiercely hugging him, she led him down the hallway. "Harry has been around spouting tales of some long lost Black relative who reminds him of Bellatrix. I do not suppose you know anything about that?"

"Er, Carina Vela Black?"

"Yes, that's it."

"She's real. She was trapped in a portrait for awhile by Phineas Nigellus Black, and then came out of the portrait. She did some fancy magic to get me out of the Veil so I've been staying with her. But she's run into a bit of trouble and I'm hoping you can help."

"You always find yourself in the oddest mixes," Andy said. "What do I need to do?"

"I think Carina's been taken to the Auror Offices," Sirius said, and quickly explained the circumstances to Andy, who had the grace to not look overly confused.

Andy also failed to see the same issues Sirius did. "The Auror Department is run by Harry Potter now, you remember him? Your godson?"

The familiar feeling of shame filtered through Sirius. He wanted to assure Andy that of course he never stopped thinking about Harry, but Andy continued talking, "it is not as if Barty Crouch, or Rookwood, or Scrimegeour is still stifling justice."

"But Carina is volatile. It's like adding too much Syrup of Hellebore to a potion, it's bound to go wrong, but impossible to predict just how it will all go to hell."

"I seem to recall you rushing in to the Ministry thirty-two years ago to save someone else, and that escapade had disastrous consequences. Perhaps you are trying to do it right this time?"

"You've always been too bloody astute, Andy," Sirius grumbled. "Can we just get going?"

"Hold your hippogriffs, Sirius."

Sirius followed Andy through a long hallway decorated with framed moving photographs. He was tempted to examine them, but urgency kept him moving. Until he saw two babies with bright hair absorbed in watching a unicorn plush toy fly around them, then Sirius stopped short.

"Meet my great-grandchildren, Sirius." Andromeda said, while Sirius stood in utter disbelief. "The one with green hair is Andromeda, and the pink-haired one is Nymphadora. The metamorphagus genes are from my grandson, of course."

"Your grandson?" Sirius was bewildered.

"Nymphadora and Remus married and had a child, Teddy, right before they died. I raised Teddy, which was wonderful, especially as," Andy sighed deeply, wordlessly conveying her burden of tragedies, "Ted died in the war, so did Remus and Nymphadora. Raising young Teddy held me together. And now Teddy is all grown with his own twin girls. They might be even more of a handful than my Nymphadora was."

"Merlin's balls," Sirius whispered. Sirius had watched Remus and his cousin flirt and tease eachother at Grimmauld Place, but he had fallen through the Veil before anything happened between them. Sirius hadn't even thought Remus would date Tonks. Remus was always careful with relationships, his lycanthropy making him forever paranoid.

Carina had mentioned that she thought Remus had a child, but seeing the grand-children of Remus was gobsmacking. Sirius could not process that the girls with neon hair were related to the cardigan-obsessed prankster he had known at Hogwarts.

Andy had no time for Sirius's shock. "Pick up Dora, will you? Before we go gallivanting to the Ministry we have to bring these two home."

"Who's their mother?" Sirius wondered, hoping it was someone Moony would have approved of.

Sirius received his answer moments later when they stepped out of the Floo into the cozy living room of a comfortable and obviously domestic flat. Children's toys lay in odd places, a yellow and black blanket peeked out from under an armchair, and a used tea cup was placed in the sink. An empty owl cage was conveniently set next to a window.

Impossible to escape notice, a beautiful woman was sitting at the round kitchen table and studying an immense leather-bound book. One of her hands was holding a cup of tea while the other scratched out notes on a long piece of parchment. She was so intrenched in her work that she did not notice the visitors until the baby Sirius was holding, who he thought was Nymphadora, squealed.

The ethereal silvery-blonde was instantly out of her chair and taking the child out of Sirius's arms.

"Hello, Gran." Even her voice was alluring, like a warm breeze on a spring day. "And who're you?" Her sparkling blue eyes looked accusingly at Sirius.

"Sorry to interrupt your day, Victoire," Andy said. "Sirius this is Victoire Weasley Lupin, Victoire this is Sirius Black, he is. . . .

"You're a Weasley, but. . . ." Sirius wanted to expound on the impossibility of a Weasley not having red hair, but Victoire emphatically interrupted him.

"I know who Sirius Black is, Gran," Victoire said. "I am wondering what he is doing in my kitchen."

"I am surprised to be in your kitchen too, Victoire," Sirius returned testily.

"We are off to defend another Black cousin," Andy explained.

"There are no Blacks left," Victoire argued. She was clearly someone who wouldn't take crap from anyone. "And Sirius Black is supposed to be dead."

"I'm alive, obviously. And there's also the Black who fell out of a portrait a two months back," Sirius corrected.

"Pardon me?"

"Carina has been suspected of mischief, so we are going to defend her good character to the Aurors," Andy said.

Victoire's blue eyes gleamed. "I can help!"

Now it was Sirius's turn to look skeptical.

"I am an advisor for the Wizengamot," Victoire elaborated, "having a law expert with you won't hurt. And I haven't had a good adventure in ages, unless you are under the immensely mistaken assumption that changing millions of diapers is exciting."

"Fine," Andy decided, "but what will we do with the children?"

Victoire twisted her delicate mouth while thinking, "I'm sure Mum could watch them."

"Who is you mother?" Sirius queried, "I haven't kept track of the latest round of Weasleys."

"My parents are Fleur and Bill."

"Fleur Delacour was one of the contestants in the Triwizard Tournament," Andy said.

"The French girl?" Sirius asked, the vague memory of Harry mentioning a Fleur Delacour arising in Sirius's mind.

Victoire bristled, "my mother is much more than some French girl."

"I am sure she is, she's also the girl who rejected Ron when he asked her to the Yule Ball," Sirius remembered.

Victoire's lovely face broke into a genuine smile, "I still find that story unbelievable. Or that Sirius Black of all people knows about it."

Sirius shrugged. It felt like lifetimes ago.

"We should get going," Andy advised.

"Alright, let's get a wiggle on then," Victoire said.

In the interest of efficiency, only Victoire brought her daughters to Shell Cottage. It only took her a few minutes before she returned to the flat.

"We're quite the trio," Sirius noticed.

"You're the only odd one," Victoire retorted, before grabbing both Sirius's and Andy's hands and Side-Along Apparating them to the front doors of the Ministry.

Checking into the Ministry was torturous. Victoire should have gained entry easily, but the overly concerned security guard was puzzled that Victoire was not going through the employees' entrance.

"Just let me in!" Victoire snapped, quickly succumbing to the trademark Weasley temper. "I don't have time for your nonsense. I am trying to give my guests a tour of my workplace, that is not a crime." She then tried to usher Sirius and Andy in with her, but the guard stopped her.

Andromeda actually checked in easily, with the excuse that she was dropping something off for her great-nephew, Scorpius Malfoy, in the Auror Offices.

As usual, Sirius presented the real problem.

"Name," The already irritated guard ordered.

"Sirius Orion Black." The security guard was too preoccupied with filling out the paperwork to take immediate issue with the name.

"Wand."

Sirius uneasily put his wand on the counter so the guard could weigh it.

"Sirius Black. . . ." the guard read aloud the description that appeared on the scale, "you're dead."

"Obviously not, mate," Sirius retorted. Arguing that you were alive became tiresome rather quickly.

"There is no rule against previously believed to be deceased individuals being allowed entry to the Ministry," Victoire argued. "In fact, if you look here," she pulled an enormous book from her tote bag and flipped to a book-marked page, "Law AB671-Q of the Rules Regarding Conduct in the Ministry of Magic states, well let me paraphrase this legal jargon; there is no law disallowing Sirius Black entrance as long he poses no threat. These visitors fulfill the stated expectations of Ministry guests. Furthermore," while Victoire turned a few pages in the books she whispered for Andy and Sirius to make a run for it.

"Let's go," Sirius grabbed his wand and Andy's hand and hurried into the bustling crowd in the Ministry atrium. He smirked as he heard the security guard screech "STOP" only for Victoire to say, "Sir! Excuse me, sir, sit down! Stop the dramatics, they legally have the right to walk! Also, my uncle, Harry Potter, is head of the Auror Department, I work in the Wizengamot, and Sirius Black is a war hero being escorted by Andromeda Tonks, my grandmother-in-law, and a war hero as well. You must be daft to think they are going to cause any harm."

"SIRIUS BLACK IS DEAD!" The guard raged.

"Then why does he look so healthy? Just look at his shiny hair!"

"You always knew how to make an entrance, Sirius," Andy teased as the voices of Victoire and the guard faded away.

I just can't seem to help myself," Sirius grinned. The palpable energy and vitality in the Ministry atrium was infectious.

While the elevator was ascending to the Auror Department reality hit Sirius in a very unsettling way.

"You know, Andy," he mused while leaning against the elevator walls, "I was ready to die before I hit twenty fighting alongside James, Lily, Remus, and that blasted rat, Peter."

"I thought I was going to marry a bigoted arse and end up poisoning either him or myself in despair." Andy said.

"Carina almost married Robert Fawley," Sirius noted.

"Life does not have a rhyme or reason, Sirius. But the war is over, you are not in Azkaban, and you are not dead. I realize there are people missing, but try to make the most of what you have."

Sirius nodded solemnly as the elevator bell rang and the doors swung open.

The Auror Office was busy, so at first no one noticed Sirius and Andromeda. A pale man with sharp features and a thin face was the first to see them.

"Great-Aunt Andromeda, what are you doing here?" The man inquired.

"Scorpius," Andy murmured, gesturing the three of them to a convenient alcove. "Do you happen to have Carina Vela Black here?"

"How do you know that?" Scorpius asked, and then looked squarely at Sirius, "who are you?" Sirius could surmise from this man's manner and presence that he had been raised by people who adhered to strict pureblood etiquette.

"Sirius Black."

Slight color rose in Scorpius's pale cheeks. "Harry was right." He ran a thin hand through his near white hair. "What should I do now? Why are you here? Sweet Salazar, what are we doing? Do we need to find Harry?"

"Scorpius," Andy looked concerned, "are you quite alright? I have never seen you so ruffled."

Scorpius took a deep breath and collected himself. "I am fine, Aunt Andromeda."

"Who are you?" Sirius asked.

"Scorpius Malfoy."

"Scorpius is the grandson of Narcissa, so he is your first-cousin twice removed. He is also married to Albus Potter, Harry's son," Andy said, "so he really is part of the family."

"Huh," Sirius stared at Scorpius, "I've got to admit that's a shocker." While Sirius was surprised, the marriage of two people he did not know was less surprising than seeing the pink and purple haired grand-daughters of Remus Lupin. "I'm actually looking for Carina," Sirius said, "and then I'll focus on all the other shit that needs to be focused on."

"Harry brought her in and put her in a holding cell to await questioning," Scorpius explained, "but this is all strictly Auror business."

"Scorpius, if you get in trouble I will smooth it all over," Andy assured, "and I think people will be more concerned that Sirius is alive than that you let slip a little too much classified information to your Great-Aunt."

Scorpius still looked uncomfortable and unsure. "How did you even come back?" He demanded from Sirius.

"Carina got me out of the Veil."

"Intriguing," murmured Scorpius.

"Why is Carina in a holding cell?" Andy refocused the conversation.

"Delphine Burke is dead," Scorpius said bluntly. "And Harry thinks Carina killed her."

"Bloody hell," Sirius swore, his stomach dropping and his temples beginning to ache.

"Oh dear," Andy murmured, her pursed lips and sorrowful voice clear signs that she was affected by the horrible news. "That is awful."

Scorpius nodded somberly. "Veronica Burke and James brought her to St. Mungo's. The Healers have no idea what she died of, but they believe it was blood magic. Carina has a history of blood magic. There is no real evidence against her, but she is the only plausible suspect."

"The Auror Department gives me the creeps," Sirius announced.

"You have every reason to hate the Aurors who put you in Azkaban, but this is a very different department," Andy reminded him.

The stillness between the three of them was interrupted by Victoire Weasley stepping out of the elevator and joining them in the shadowed corner.

"Hullo, Scorpius. So what's the game plan boys and girls?" She smiled slyly and reached into her tote bag, "I have some handy products from Uncle George with me."

"Perhaps we could go talk to Harry?" Scorpius suggested.

"Perhaps," Victoire mused. "But I prefer a bit of flair in my rescue operations of people who I did not know existed until twenty minutes ago."

Scorpius sighed deeply and raised his eyes to the ceiling, as if wondering what past deed he was doing penance for now. "I am going to sit behind my desk. Please do not be utterly destructive." Scorpius strode away from them into the mass of clamoring Aurors.

"Carina's in a holding cell, so I can just go straight there," Sirius suggested. "And you two can clean up all the fuckery that's bound to happen back here."

"We should act quickly," Victoire advised, "we're going to be noticed soon."

Sure enough, James Potter, supporting a weeping Veronica Burke, rounded the corner and nearly bumped into Victoire.

"Vic, what're you doing here?" James demanded, "did you already hear?"

Sirius stared at Victoire so he could avoid looking at the reincarnation of his best friend.

"Hear what?" Victoire asked, viewing Veronica and James with concern.

"Mum's dead," Veronica cried as she erupted into sobs.

"Fucking hell," Victoire murmured, immediately bringing Veronica into a tender hug, "I am so sorry, love."

"I'm just going to go," Sirius whispered to Andy and started off through the bustling crowd of Aurors.

"Who's that?" He heard James ask.

"That may or may not be Sirius Black," Victoire answered. "By which I mean it is Sirius Black."

"What the HELL?"

Sirius should have been disappointed by the lack of oversight in the Auror Department, but it meant he only had to Stun one lone guard before he found Carina.

She was sitting, curled up, in the corner of a dirty cell, her sniffling the remnant of heavy sobbing. Sirius was shocked by how pallid Carina looked, especially as Sirius had seen her an hour ago. Even her robes were scuffed, and her usually gleaming hair was tangled. She looked broken.

"Carina," he called.

"Sirius?" Carina's usually crisp voice was hoarse from crying.

"I'm getting you out of this damn cage."

"I thought you were biding your time to return to the world."

"I tend toward unplanned, abrupt, and dramatic entrances," Sirius commented wryly. "And you aren't the only Black to have been falsely accused of a crime."

"I believe I have been living on borrowed time here," Carina said. "Everything must come to an end, so perhaps this is the end."

"Perk up, love," Sirius chided, lightly grasping one of the cell bars. "I'm getting you out of here, I promise."

"I really despise small spaces, Sirius," Carina said, her sniffling becoming more pronounced. "And I just cannot believe Madame Burke is dead."

"I know."

After a few minutes of Carina taking deep breathes to control her crying, she finally stood up and approached Sirius. Close up she looked incredibly distraught. "An inverse _Alohomora_ should work on the lock," she said.

"I know how to unlock things."

It took four different unlocking spells for the heavy padlock to open. Sirius had to grasp Carina's wrist and pull her out because she looked unwilling to move.

"How are you?"

"Small spaces remind me of the century I spent trapped," Carina whispered gruffly. "I know the process of law is fair and legitimate in this period, but I cannot help but believe they want to send me to Azkaban. Sirius, I cannot go to Azkaban," Carina shivered, wrapping her arms around herself, "I have too many bad thoughts for Dementors, there are too many things I have done. I would rather throw myself in the North Sea than have Dementors force me to relive the horrific parts of my childhood," Carina began crying again. "Sirius, Dementors make me faint, and frankly I cannot even do a Patronus Charm. I have tried countless times, but I cannot manage even a wisp. I am so completely a Black that I cannot conjure the notion of hope in my mind."

"You're not going to Azkaban," Sirius soothed. "And we can work on your Patronus. Now let's explain that you did not kill Madame Burke and forget this ever happened."

Sirius guided Carina to the exit, but Carina stopped him, "Sirius, I must look like I live in a graveyard."

Sirius had grown up alongside Narcissa, Andromeda, and Bellatrix, so he understood the importance of appearance for women in the House of Black.

"I only have a handkerchief," he pulled the scrap of white cloth out of the pocket of his leather jacket.

Carina took the handkerchief and mopped up the tears on her face. She clumsily ran her fingers through her hair, and pinched her cheeks to give them color. "Perhaps I look like live just outside a graveyard now," she muttered as she handed the handkerchief back to Sirius.

Sirius took back the handkerchief, and reached in his pocket for a cigarette. This whole situation had created a pounding in his temples, causing an overwhelming desire for a few drags of a cigarette.

He was bewildered when he found a small chocolate bar.

"I replaced your pack of cigarettes with milk chocolate," Carina explained, "smoking is a disgusting and unhealthy habit."

"I don't even smoke often!" Sirius protested, "just sometimes taking a drag from a cig feels really fucking good!"

"Since you have the chocolate, perhaps you would like to share it?" Carina interrupted.

Sirius sighed in defeat and broke off two pieces of chocolate, handing one to Carina. She took it gratefully.

The smooth milk chocolate was melting in his mouth when Sirius's godson, followed by an entourage of Aurors, burst into the holding cells.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

**AN: I have so much love for everyone who is following this story. **

**Here is the snippet for the next chapter: **

[Carina was found outside, looking like a shadow in the damp night time air. She was leaning against the house wall, but lurched towards Sirius when Teddy and Sirius approached her.

"I am sorry I could not hold my tongue," she murmured as Sirius silently hugged her. ]

**As always comments, reviews, constructive criticism, and etc. is much appreciated. **


	5. Chapter 5

The tableau before Harry was so utterly surprising that he could only stare at the bitten piece of chocolate being held by his previously dead godfather.

Minutes earlier, when he had emerged from his office into the main space of the Auror Offices, Harry had seen unprecedented anarchy .

He had first noticed Andromeda gliding towards him, but did not have time to contemplate the meaning of that before his attention had flitted to James with his arm around Veronica Burke. Then the distinctive shriek of Warren Cautney had brought Harry's attention to the center of the room, where Victoire was directing pieces of paper like a zealous conductor directing a drunk orchestra. Spare papers had magically arranged themselves in the air to read: "We're back, bitches! With Love, Sirius and Carina Black." In the midst of the storm, sitting like the calm eye of a hurricane, Scorpius Malfoy was reading a file.

"Andromeda," Harry had bit out, "do you know what Victoire means by that?"

"Perhaps she means exactly what she is saying," Andromeda then said unhelpfully.

"Yes, but _what does that mean_?" Harry had reiterated.

"I think she might be alluding to Sirius Black slipping into the Auror Offices to retrieve his cousin Carina from your oversight," Andromeda had said. "I was hoping we could take a moment to discuss the innocence of Carina Black."

"Andromeda, _what_?" Harry had asked, his mind trying to process the impossibilities Andromeda had just presented to him.

Andromeda remained unfazed. "Should I have been more clear? Your godfather, Sirius, is here."

The simple sentence motivated Harry into action. "Scorpius, Harbottle, with me. Cautney, reason with Victoire."

"Um, Boss?" Cautney said. It was no secret Victoire frightened many people in the Auror Department.

"Cautney, deal with it! You're an Auror!"

As Harry had rushed to the hallway that led to the holding cells he heard Victoire's cackle and knew Cautney would be useless against her.

Passing Edwina Falk, who lay stunned in the corner of the hallway, had caused a deep sense of foreboding to fall upon Harry like a heavy cloak.

Now, Harry was faced with Sirius eating chocolate, looking comfortable and at ease in the bare room, as if he hadn't been presumed dead for over three decades. Sirius appeared healthier, but nearly identical to the day he had fallen through the Veil. Next to him, looking especially like Bellatrix now that her hair was tangled around her face, was Carina Black.

"Hullo, Harry," Sirius said. "Sorry to stop by like this, but Blacks don't really get along with enclosed spaces. I thought I should retrieve Carina."

"Sirius," Harry uttered helplessly.

"Do you want some chocolate?" Sirius offered.

Something in the way the side of Sirius's mouth tugged into a familiar half-smirk made Harry realize how ecstatic he was to see his godfather again. Harry almost collapsed Sirius with the force of his embrace.

"Sweet Merlin, Sirius!" Harry said, barely controlling his hysteric euphoria. "I never thought I'd see you again."

Sirius barked in laughter and returned the strong hug. "I have a way of getting out of tricky situations."

"I can't believe it, I thought you were dead. I thought it was my fault."

"That's a stupid idea," Sirius said simply. Harry almost believed him.

Harry felt he could have talked to Sirius forever, but Carina's raised voice stole his attention.

She was glaring at Harbottle so intensely that she appeared twice her actual size. "Keep your grimy hands off of me, you piece of raw sewage, or I will cut out your liver and make you choke on it!"

"Harbottle?" Harry prompted.

"I was trying to put her back in the holding cell, Boss," Harbottle said.

"Let's go to my office," Harry decided.

He led everyone back to the center of the Auror Offices, where Victoire was easily ignoring Cautney, and was instead using her wand to make her message even larger.

"Sirius!" Carina exclaimed once she saw what Victoire was doing.

"I had a bit of help getting here," Harry overheard Sirius explain. Harry wondered how Andromeda and Victoire had found themselves in this mess.

"Are you sure it was helpful?" Carina hissed.

Victoire, who had a keen sense for when people were paying attention to her, noticed them all staring at her.

"Hello, Uncle Harry. I see you've found Carina and Sirius," she said.

"Victoire, Andromeda, let's go into my office. Everyone else, clean up this wreck."

James and Veronica, without invitation, also followed Harry into his office. Chairs were summoned so the large group could sit down.

Harry had a strong urge to take a shot of firewhiskey. But he realized that would be inappropriate, although Sirius would certainly approve.

Veronica's normally pristine appearance was unsurprisingly marred, her despair obvious in her rumpled clothes, red face, and the way she leaned into James as if he was a pillar keeping her from crumbling. Harry wished his son had returned to England in better circumstances; Merlin knew James had been through enough already. But Harry was also glad Veronica could easily find support in James.

It was easier to look at Victoire and Andromeda, who were standing together in the corner of his office, than at Sirius lounging in a chair, or at Carina, who sat stiffly and was fiddling with a ring on her hand.

Everyone was waiting for Harry to say something.

"Victoire, what are you doing here?" Out of the myriad questions pounding in Harry's brain, this was the easiest to ask.

"I met Sirius about forty-five minutes ago when he and Gran arrived at my flat, and I thought my day needed a bit of drama." Victoire smiled, clearly pleased with herself.

"You certainly got drama," Harry said.

"I know, I am very happy." Of course Victoire Weasley Lupin would be satisfied that she had a front row seat to the Auror Department's drama of the decade.

"Andromeda, you are here with Sirius?" Harry asked.

"Yes, he felt concerned about Carina being kept in the Auror Department."

"Carina is claustrophobic," Sirius announced. Harry was forced to look into his grey eyes.

"Carina is claustrophobic?" Harry repeated.

"Yes," Carina said, with a hostile bite to her crisp words. "In case you have forgotten, I was trapped inside a portrait for a century. I am not too fond of small spaces now. And you must let me go, because I am innocent. I did not poison, or harm Delphine Burke. I will agree to use Veritaserum to prove the only laws I have broken since coming out of the portrait are the ones I broke while I was retrieving Sirius from the Veil. And I am sure you can pardon me for bringing Sirius back, since apparently everyone else in this era is too incompetent to know anything about magical disappearances. "

"What the fuck?" Was James's comment. "What the bloody hell has been happening while I was away?"

"Let's get this sorted out," Harry decided, ignoring his son's demanding gaze. "Miss Black, if you are innocent you will be released, and if you are guilty I don't care if you are claustrophobic. With your consent, I'll use Veritaserum to determine the truth."

James did not take well to be ignored. "Who the actual fuck are you?" He asked Carina again. "And also, what the fuck is going on?

"Your eloquence astounds me," Carina said, without deigning to look at James. "But if you must know, I am Carina Vela Black."

"Great, now I understand whatever the fuck is happening," James bit out.

Your useless profanity is quite irritating," Carina snapped. "Do you have something you would like to ask me?"

James was quick with his response. "Sure, thanks for asking. Who the bloody hell are you? I thought you were just Veronica's weird employee, but now you've been accused of murder and shite. And you brought Sirius Black to life!"

"I did not bring Sirius back from the dead! He never died," Carina glowered at Harry, "if you had believed me when I first encountered you, this would likely be a different situation."

Harry nodded and forced himself to apologize to the furious woman. "I am sorry I didn't believe you could Summon Sirius from the Veil. At the time I was angry that you were offering me false hope."

"I don't think you killed Mum," Veronica said miserably. "You have no real motive, and I'm sure there is some item in the shop that could've done it. But I do hope you'll help us track down the answers."

"Thank you, Veronica," Carina said, sounding truly grateful.

"You still need to be absolved under Veritaserum," Harry insisted. He hoped Carina was innocent so he would not have to deal with her complicated presence any more.

"Do you have any available?" Carina asked. "I would like to finish this ordeal."

Harry removed a delicate vial from his drawer, dropped six droplets into a conjured glass of water, and handed it to Carina. It took only minutes for Carina to prove her innocence.

"It is probably a good idea for you all to leave before _The Prophet_ finds out what has happened and descends upon all of us," Harry said. He exchanged a glance with James, who looked understandably uneasy at the thought of any interaction with _The Daily Prophet._

"Excellent, I think I am going to head to Blackthorn now," Carina said.

"Nonsense," Andromeda insisted, "I have decided you and Sirius are going to stay with me."

Harry watched as Sirius and Carina exchanged an understanding glance. Envy at their clear familiarity twinged in his stomach.

"Sounds good," Sirius agreed. "But Carina, won't you miss the library?"

Carina smiled softly. "That's what magic is for."

It took only minutes for the odd group to shuffle out of Harry's office. Thankfully, Andy took control. Harry only had the energy to deal with mindless expense reports while drinking tea to distract him from the day.

"James, you take Veronica home so she can see Zeno and her daughter." Andy directed, and then analyzed the rest of the group. "Victoire, thank you for your help today; you can go home now. Harry, you tidy up everything here so Carina is officially innocent in all the paperwork, Scorpius, you should help him. And perhaps, Harry, you might come over for dinner tomorrow. Carina, Sirius, let's stop at Blackthorn House so we can gather your possessions."

Harry put his face in his hands once everyone vacated his office. He was exhausted and overwhelmed, feeling like his brain shooting jinxes at itself.

Harry had known Delphine before James became good friends with her daughter, Veronica. Harry and Delphine's friendship had been further strengthened by James and Veronica's friendship.

It was incomprehensible to Harry that Delphine had been so suddenly torn out of their world. And now it was his job to find who and what had killed Delphine. Sometimes Harry hated this blasted job.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Sirius realized he wasn't the only one unable to sleep when he wandered downstairs and found Carina, still in her usual black robes, perusing the books in Andromeda's study.

"Merlin, Carina, don't you have enough books already?" Sirius asked.

Carina swirled around. "Hello, Sirius. Why are you not sleeping?"

Sirius raised an inquiring eyebrow at Carina.

"I could not even attempt to fall asleep," Carina answered Sirius's silent question. "And," she gestured to Andromeda's neatly assorted books, "there are plenty of Muggle books here. I have only read the two Muggle novels that were in the Hogwarts library, but these look fascinating."

Sirius examined Andromeda's collection. "Her husband, Ted, got Andy into Muggle literature. You should ask her in the morning for her recommendations."

"I will," Carina murmured. "Andromeda seems exceedingly kind."

"She's a good sort." Sirius wanted to tell Carina about the novels Lily Evans had introduced him to, but he was startled by the front door screeching open.

Sirius and Carina swung around to face the door, instinctively raising their wands.

A tall, handsome man in a trench coat carefully shut the door. If it wasn't for his lack of scars and neatly cut dark blue hair Sirius would have believed he was looking at the ghost of Remus Lupin.

"So it's true?" The man asked in a pleasant baritone when he noticed Sirius and Carina staring at him.

"You're Teddy Lupin," Sirius realized.

A roguish grin that Sirius had seen many times on Remus spread across Teddy's face. "That's true, and you're Sirius Black. Is Gran asleep?"

Teddy said something about how he should know better than to visit this late, because his grandmother always went to bed at the same time, but his words were muffled because Sirius had pulled him into a crushing embrace. "You look just like Remus," Sirius said when he released the hug, emotion making his voice gruff. "But that hair, that's all from your Mum."

"It's a treat to meet you, Sirius. I heard you had a rough start today, but everyone is absolutely over the moon that you two are here," Teddy said, unperturbed by Sirius's emotional greeting. He stepped toward Carina and hugged her too, "you must be Carina. I am so happy to meet you."

"Pleasure to meet you too," Carina said politely.

"I don't want to keep you up if you're also trying to go to bed," Teddy said.

"Mate, as if I'd send you out the door," Sirius said.

Teddy smiled and hung up his trench coat. "I was hoping you'd say that."

Teddy ushered them to the cozy sitting room. "I work at St. Mungo's and I got back from work late. Victoire told me about her afternoon, and let me tell you, I thought she'd changed too many diapers and finally gone off the deep end. Vic told me if I if I was going to be a dick I should come over here and see for myself."

"So you're the lucky bloke to marry Victoire Weasley, eh?" Sirius realized. "Brilliant bird, I think Moony and Tonks would approve."

Teddy puffed in pride at the mention of his wife. "Victoire is amazing, I've always thought my parents would love her, Gran certainly does. Though, ever since Andy and Dora were born Gran has only had attention for them."

"Your daughters are marvelous," Sirius said honestly, "when I first saw them I was flabbergasted. That hair is crazy."

Teddy's own hair turned bright pink as he blushed with pleasure. "I am unbelievably lucky. I have the perfect family."

Sirius and Carina exchanged a wry glance. They couldn't relate to having a happy family.

"Andromeda showed us pictures of your daughters, and they look beautiful, but how do you tell them apart since they are metamorphagi as well?" Carina asked, curious as always.

"I paint their nails every week," Teddy admitted. "Dora gets pink nails and Andy gets blue."

"I would love to meet them." Carina said, surprising Sirius, "I had many younger cousins, I actually love children."

"Come over to the flat anytime, both of you are welcome," Teddy said. "In fact, we'll have you over for dinner. Vic makes steak au poivre so damn good I want to marry her all over again every time I eat it. And Carina, Vic wanted me to tell you that you're going shopping together this weekend. Victoire likes the way you told James off, apparently, and she also loves shopping. Make sure she doesn't buy any more shoes for Andy and Dora, we have too many."

Sirius was amazed by how effortlessly charming Teddy was. It was saddening that if Remus had not been a werewolf he could have been as fully confident and self-assured as Teddy was. Although, Sirius had to admit Teddy's flair definitely came from both his Mum and his Dad.

Sirius was so immersed in talking to Teddy he did not realize how quickly time was passing until they were interrupted.

"Ahem." Andy appeared in the doorway of the sitting room, a silk bathrobe pulled over her nightgown. "I heard voices."

"Good evening, Gran, sorry if we woke you." Teddy stoop up to hug his grandmother.

"I am glad you had a chance to talk with Carina and Sirius," Andromeda said crisply. "But now you need to go home. Carina and Sirius, you have had a long day, you need to sleep as well."

"I'll stop by tomorrow then," Teddy said.

"And give my love to your girls," Andy reminded.

"Of course, Gran. I love you."

Teddy was soon out the door, although the light scent of his cologne lingered.

"You did a good job with him, Andy," Sirius said.

A satisfied smile crept across Andy's proud face. "I know."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The Carina that Teddy had first met was starkly different from the Carina he was now faced with.

Now Carina was on the defensive, making her bristling and snappish.

She was surrounded by the people who had accused her of murder the day before, so Teddy couldn't blame her.

Veronica Burke, Scorpius Malfoy, Philip Harbottle, Harry Potter, Carina Black, and Teddy were standing in brightly lit room at St. Mungo's with the body of Delphine Burke.

It was not an ideal atmosphere.

Carina was obviously tense. Earlier she had sharply refused to meet with anyone from the Ministry to discuss how she Summoned Sirius from the Veil. Now she was stuck in a room with a dead body. Carina's extreme displeasure was obvious in how she glared in turns at Harbottle, Harry, and Scorpius.

Gran had confided to Teddy that Carina had been affected by nightmares last night. The stark and dismal lighting of the hospital room made Carine looked stressed, and she was clearly exhausted.

"The best specialists at St. Mungo's could not ascertain that Madame Burke died because a magical object drew all of the energy out of her?" Carina snapped, minutes after gingerly analyzing the body.

"Our blood magic specialist is currently in Australia," Teddy explained.

"What good is she for the hospital while in Australia?" Carina demanded.

"She is doing research."

"Do you know what object could have done that?" Harbottle asked, cutting off what was sure to be another scathing comment from Carina.

Carina glared at Harbottle, but duly walked over to the table where Madame Burke's belongings had been placed. "It could have been something in the shop, but that is unlikely as Veronica and me were unaffected," Carina replied. In the corner of the room a small sob caught in Veronica's throat.

A silver bracelet, three rings, and a pendant were laying on a small table.

"Mum had the pendant on her because she was studying it." Veronica said, her voice still raw from crying. "Mum said it had magical signatures unlike anything she had seen before."

"I agree with Veronica, that the pendant is the most likely culprit. The bracelets and rings seem harmless, although they should not be discounted. We should also recheck everything in the shop," Carina said.

"There is an inventory book," Veronica supplied.

"I know everything that was bought recently, and as part of my job I examined everything in the shop for signs of extremely strange magic. Except I had yet to examine the pendant," Carina said.

Carina leaned over the pendant, but was careful to not touch it. There was a long, tense moment when the room was dominated by the stillness of Carina and the gleaming pendant.

She stepped back. "I feel unsettled."

Veronica looked concerned, "why do think Mum was obsessed with it?"

Carina took another step away and shrugged uneasily. "Perhaps there is a weak Compulsion Charm on it."

"Perhaps?" Scorpius prompted. He was the only one using a small notebook and quill. Harry and Harbottle were both holding their wands while standing in the middle of the room. Teddy was sure they still felt the need to watch Carina's every move.

"A weak Compulsion Charm could pass unnoticed by Madame Burke if it was correctly woven into the runes and material of the pendant," Carina explained. "I suggest that no one spends much time with it."

Veronica shivered, "could we reconvene tomorrow? This is a bit much for me, and that way one of the Aurors can comb through the shop items."

Carina agreed to the proposition by leaving the room. Veronica followed her out.

"Why doesn't she hate you?" Harbottle accused Teddy, referring to Carina.

"She's staying with my Gran, and I visited her and Sirius last night," Teddy said.

"You did?" Harry asked, shocked.

"I wanted to meet them. Also I didn't believe Victoire at first when she told me about her day. She loves drama, doesn't she?"

"Yes," affirmed Scorpius and Harry.

"Going over to Gran's meant I had a nice time with Sirius and Carina," Teddy continued.

"How was Carina?" Harry asked suspiciously.

Teddy was silent for a moment, trying to tread carefully. He had enjoyed spending time with Carina and Sirius. As expected, Sirius had been an excellent raconteur. Carina was more cautious, but had become affable and witty.

Teddy knew that Harry still didn't like Carina, his grudge stemming from how similar Bellatrix and Carina seemed at first consideration. "I think she reacts strongly when she feels threatened," Teddy said finally, "which is fair considering what she's been through. I liked her though."

"She was maniacal when I first met her in Grimmauld Place," Harry said.

"She had just escaped from confinement," Teddy pointed out. "But Gran is having a dinner tonight, so I think you'll see Carina is . . . well she's not harmless, but she also isn't a crazy pureblood supremacist."

Harry looked unconvinced.

Later that evening Teddy and Victoire paused outside Gran's house before entering what was sure to be an emotionally fraught dinner.

"I'm a simple woman, Teddy," Victoire declared, an alluring smirk gracing her full lips. Teddy was convinced that it was ingrained in Victoire's personality to flirt with him. He couldn't say he minded.

"You are far my simple, my love." Teddy pressed a firm kiss on Victoire's pouting lips.

Victoire luxuriated in the kiss for a moment before drawing away, although Teddy's hand remained tangled in her smooth hair. "Yes, I am! All I want is to be friends with Carina."

"That's it?" Teddy questioned.

"I suppose I also like buying shoes."

"Mmhmm," Teddy murmured as he landed light kisses on the corner of her mouth.

Victoire licked her lips, "and I'm deeply in love with you. I would die for our girls. I love wine. I like our crazy family. My job is fun. I'm grateful for. . . ."

Teddy knew Victoire would never stop talking, so he kissed her to swallow the impending words.

Victoire sucked gently on his bottom lip before ending the kiss. "I know you did that to make me stop talking," she said archly.

Teddy cupped Victoire's face in his hands and gazed into her bright blue eyes. "You are marvelously complex. I wouldn't have it any other way."

The door to his Gran's house opened before Victoire could respond.

"Ugh, you two are disgusting," Lily Potter groaned. She was backlit by the light from the house, but her displeasure was still clear in the way her nose crinkled. "Honestly, you're going to traumatize your children one day."

"Hey, Lilybug." Teddy said, hugging the young woman he considered a sister, careful to not disrupt the plate she was holding. "Are those hors d'oeuvres?"

"Yeah, Scorpius made some. This is my plate."

Victoire peered down at the plate Lily was holding. "There's like fifteen on your plate."

"They're really damn good!" Lily defended, "it's dates wrapped in bacon. And I had to take some before Mum and James ate them all."

Victoire took her chance to hug Lily too. "I haven't seen you in ages, Lily," she complained.

"We went thrift shopping together in Muggle London last week," Lily said in her no-nonsense manner.

"Too long," Victoire said. She extricated herself from the hug, snagged two hors d'oeuvres and disappeared down the hallway before Lily could react.

"She took my snacks!" Lily exclaimed.

"I'm sorry," Teddy said while he chuckled at Lily's dramatic outrage.

"You married a brat," Lily declared. "She's a brat."

"You're a brat," Teddy said evenly. Lily was prickly and didn't take shit from anyone. If anyone else called Victoire a brat Teddy would leap to her defense. But it was hard to take Lily's sentiment seriously when Lily and Victoire, despite a nine year age difference, were extremely close. Teddy knew Lily considered Victoire an older sister. "How's the dinner going so far?"

"Mum and James are eating all the food. Scorpius is helping the house elf cook. Al and Dad are discussing Quidditch. I think Andromeda, Sirius, and Carina are arguing about forks."

"Forks?"

"It's not entirely clear," Lily said, "do you want to go sleuth it out?"

"Of course," Teddy readily agreed.

"Who did you dump your kids on tonight?" Lily wondered as they headed in the direction of loud voices.

"People are always happy to take care of my girls," Teddy said.

"You literally call them Angsty and Diva," Lily pointed out.

"Yet you were excited to babysit them two weeks ago," Teddy countered.

"Touché," Lily said, "your kids are adorable. They're evil masterminds, but so fucking cute."

Teddy and Lily entered the large dining room. No one was sitting down yet. Victoire had joined Scorpius in the kitchen, and through the open door Teddy could spy her happily chatting with him.

"So, forks?" Lily barged into the small circle that Gran, Sirius, and Carina had made.

"Merlin, Lily," Teddy complained, "I know you're a Slytherin, but you have the subtlety of a raging lion."

Lily smirked and flipped her long hair over her shoulder, "I still get what I want in the end." She pounced on Gran, "forks."

"You're a Slytherin?" Sirius said disbelievingly.

"You must be Sirius." Lily did a mock curtsy, despite wearing black jeans. "I'm Lily. We couldn't meet because I was busy protecting my fair share of the hors d'oeuvres."

"I can't believe you're a Slytherin!" Sirius exclaimed again.

"That's old news," Lily said, "I'm here to discuss forks."

Carina had been considering Lily with careful eyes, but now she spoke up, "you are Lily. You talked to my portrait."

Lily grinned, "yes I did. I really liked your gorgeous green robes and your hair, so I started complaining to you about all the idiots in Hogwarts."

"You had funny stories," Carina confirmed.

"I'm so happy you fell out of the portrait so now we can have actual discussions instead of me monologuing to you."

"Why are you so emphatic about forks, Lily?" Gran asked.

"I thought you three were discussing forks, and I didn't want to be left out of such a scintillating conversation," Lily said promptly.

Carina laughed, "we were actually discussing a silver-polishing charm that Sirius once used in prank."

Lily had a gleam in her eyes, which signaled to Teddy that she was going to start interrogating Sirius for more details, but Lily's mission was interrupted by Scorpius announcing the food was ready.

Once everyone sat down at the long table, conversation was tense. Carina was sitting next to Teddy, which was actually quite nice. But for an unfathomable reason, Gran had placed Harry on Carina's other side.

It would have been better if Carina ignored Harry, but she didn't. While eating she snidely commented, "imagine putting me in a holding cell for something I did not do, when there are so many things I have actually done."

"Carina, is that a good comment to make to an Auror?" Teddy interrupted.

"Perhaps not, but I still find myself offended that I was confined in a dirty holding cell because of coincidence instead of actual evidence."

"I actually could have put you in a holding cell the day you broke into Grimmauld Place, but I refrained," Harry said.

"You could not even find me," Carina sneered.

"Will you two stop it," James groaned, "we're at dinner. This is supposed to be reconciliatory."

"James is right!" Lily said. "You," she gestured at Carina, "have every right to be miffed about your few hours in jail. But you shouldn't be upset at Dad for doing his job. And you," Lily frowned at Harry, "we all know you don't like Carina because she reminds you of Bellatrix Lestrange. But that's dumb, so get over it."

Harry and Gran tried to say something, but Carina's chilling accusation silenced everyone. "You hold a grudge against me because you think I am similar to a psychotic murderer who thought the Cruciatus Curse was a fun toy? We both have black hair and I am suddenly a member of an evil and power-hungry cult?"

The air was crackling with tension as Carina attempted to casually take a sip of water. Her hand was trembling so much that the glass slipped from her hand and shattered, causing water to soak the tablecloth.

"I apologize for breaking your glassware, Andromeda," Carina murmured in a tightly controlled voice. She put her palm down on the table and murmured _reparo_, causing the glass to piece itself together. Carina drew her hand up and said another spell so that the tablecloth dried itself.

Carina did not glory in her impressive use of wandless magic. Instead she gracefully stood from the chair and announced she had a sudden need for the powder room.

"I'm glad that was aired out," Sirius commented, breaking the silence that was left in Carina's wake.

"Why was she that upset?" Harry asked.

"Come on, Harry! Comparing someone to Bellatrix isn't a compliment," Ginny retorted.

"She just seems predisposed to blood magic," Harry said. "But I will try to stop seeing Bellatrix's insanity every time I look at her."

"Bellatrix threw me in the Veil, and Carina got me out. There's your difference," Sirius said bluntly.

"I hate Bellatrix as much as anyone else," Gran said imperiously, "perhaps more, because instead of a sister I was given a madwoman. It did not help Bellatrix's violent tendencies that everyone expected her to be horrible, facilitating her slow growth into an evil and twisted thing. I had Ted to show me that I had choices beyond what my family presented to me. Sirius had James Potter to show him that Sirius could escape the family clutches."

Grey eyes met grey eyes as Sirius and Gran shared an understanding look. Gran continued, "Regulus had Sirius to look up to. Scorpius had Albus. It is difficult and frightening to question the beliefs and traditions that have been ingrained in oneself. To my knowledge, Carina was able to see beyond the family madness by her own accord, without any outside influence to help her. Which is why it is especially hurtful to Carina that you would compare her to Bellatrix, who blindly obeyed the House of Black."

Whenever Teddy was beginning to forget how wise his grandmother was, she reminded him.

"Look, I get it," Sirius admitted after draining the last of his butterbeer, "my first thought when I met Carina was that she was the bastard child of Bellatrix and Voldemort. I literally thought that. But she's not some Death Eater trying to take over society. Carina wants to be free of all that purist shite."

There was an overwhelming silence to Sirius's statement. How could anyone argue with Sirius, who clearly knew Carina the best?

Sirius stood up from his chair. "Now that we've agreed Carina isn't about to go batty and kill us all, I think I'd better go find her."

Gran made eye contact with Teddy. "You should accompany Sirius, Teddy. Carina likes both of you."

Teddy obediently rose from the table.

Carina was found outside, looking like a shadow in the damp nighttime air. She was leaning against the house wall, but lurched towards Sirius when Teddy and Sirius approached her.

"I am sorry I could not hold my tongue," she murmured as Sirius silently hugged her.

"We can work on that particular skill together," Sirius said soothingly. "Harry should know better than to assume you're someone you're not."

"Gran put everyone in their place, anyways," Teddy assured.

"Andromeda is an excellent person to be related to," Carina said. "As are you, Teddy."

When the trio returned to the dining room, Scorpius stood up and said it was time for dessert. He also insisted that his chocolate cake had the power to create peace.

It was good chocolate cake.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Carina suspected Veronica had arranged this meeting. No one else would have chosen the same eclectic group to investigate Delphine Burke's murder. In one corner Veronica and James were huddled, whispering like conspirators. Harry, Teddy, and Scorpius, like true professionals, were taking a tea break, which left Carina sitting in the middle of a long oval table staring at the pendant sitting in front of her.

Carina would not touch the pendant without either gloves or proper magical protection. Even though her eyes were drawn to the amulet, staring at it unsettled her. The obsidian black stone with red webbed cracks was encircled by a cage of delicate gold strands. Etched on the stone were runes that not even Carina understood. Minuscule garnets decorated the thicker top of gold that attached the dainty gold chain to the stone.

"This is the pendant that we believe harmed Mum." Veronica announced, and the group began to gather around Carina and the amulet. Veronica picked up the chain, "She bought it last week and had taken to wearing it. I examined it closely, with Teddy, prior to this meeting. We agree it has strong magic attached to it, but we're not quite sure how it works, or is activated. Hopefully while working together the answers will arise."

James reached for the pendant. "Cursebreaking in Peru was quite a bit different from this."

His palm turned to pull the chain off Veronica's finger so Carina was able to spy the open paper cut on his index finger.

"No, you idiot!" Carina screeched, latching on to James's forearm to try and drag his hand away from the chain to avoid the disaster of a fresh wound touching a magical object.

She did not have time to jerk James away before he touched the pendant.

The sensation of being forcibly tunneled through space was more similar to the vague and confusing sensations of a dream one is trying to wake up from than Apparating. Carina thought she might vomit.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

**AN: I'm a tiny bit sorry for the cliffhanger. **

**I love you all. **


	6. Chapter 6

Part 2: The Past

November 19th, 1931

James slammed onto a plush carpet with Carina still clutching onto his arm.

"Bloody hell," he gasped. He panted desperately, hoping it would keep his heart and lungs from thudding out of his chest. To distract himself from the tingling in his fingers and the painful ache in his back, James focused on the intricate pattern on the garnet-red carpet._ "Bloody fucking hell."_

Carina did not waste time trying to stay conscious. She was already screeching in his ear. "You absolute simpleton." Her voice was raw and the words pierced the heavy fog in James's brain. "Touching an unknown magical object with an open wound is the surest way to never be seen again. Merlin and Morgana, you are so dimwitted you could not order around a House Elf."

"Open wound?" James repeated, the words thick like yarn in his mouth. "What open wound?"

"The paper-cut on your index finger, you daft toad."

"Paper-cut? On my index finger?"

Carina scoffed at his slow thought process, which James found unfair since he was struggling to stay conscious. She stood up and examined where they had been deposited.

James could only appreciate the peace for a second, because Carina's insistent hand returned to his forearm. "Potter! Potter, get up right now. I know where we are."

"Where?" James mumbled, resisting the desire to ignore Carina so he could fall asleep on the comfortable carpet.

"Get up!" Carina repeated urgently. "Sweet Salazar, I hope I am utterly and completely wrong!"

James forced his languid limbs to move and slowly stood up. They were in an innocuous library. "We're in a library."

"Potter, this is the study of Hector Fawley."

"Of who?" The name sounded vaguely familiar.

"I think we are in 1928."

"Impossible," James disagreed. "We're probably in some dumb place like Malfoy Manor."

Carina stared at him with wide, terrified eyes. "I hope you are correct."

"There's spells for this, you know," James said, with the intention of proving Carina wrong. He withdrew his wand and muttered an incantation. The date appeared in glowing characters in front of them.

_November 19th, 1931_

"Fuck." It wasn't 1928, but 1931 was still indescribably horrifying.

"This is disastrous," Carina murmured, "we need to leave."

"The Floo?" Fear and desperation heightened James's senses as he gestured to the fireplace across from them. There were open books on tables, and a drop of something that looked suspiciously like blood, but James ignored these details so he could focus on an escape.

"That will work."

They rushed to the fireplace. "Where's the Floo powder?" James asked.

"Oh, I know this, I know this, I have to remember." Carina's gaze frantically swept over every surface before settling on an intricately jeweled case sitting on the ostentatious desk. "Mr. Fawley would not spell the case, he is too arrogant that no one comes into his study without him," Carina said, and pointed at it. James hoped she was right as he reached for the case.

She was, and James retrieved the green powder without losing a limb.

"Where to?" He wondered, his dread increasing as he realized he knew nothing about the 1931 Wizarding World.

"The Leaky Cauldron, I suppose," Carina said. She took a pinch of Floo powder from his cupped palm and threw it into the fireplace. She stepped in and shouted with a confidence that slightly appeased James, "The Leaky Cauldron, Wizarding London."

James followed suit.

He brushed grey soot off of himself when he arrived in the bustling pub. Fortunately, there were too many people for anyone to notice their entrance. The noise was a low rumble as people sat and chatted at tables or at the crowded bar.

"I have a few galleons, if we need to stay here," James whispered to Carina.

Carina was worryingly pale, her breaths quick and shallow. "Potter," she gasped, "someone might recognize me."

"Let's grab a room," James decided. He guided Carina to the bar, keeping a light hand on her arm because she was so pale that James was worried she might collapse.

"Sir, sir!" James called, causing a broad middle-aged man behind the bar to walk to them.

"What's it you be wanting? Firewhiskey? Butterbeer?"

"A room, please."

"For you two? For the night?"

"Only for a few hours. We just got to London and we're still figuring out our accommodations for the night. I figure we should have a bit of a rest first," James said.

"Ah, just a few hours, I see." The man winked lewdly at Carina.

Although Carina was still breathing unevenly, she found the air to berate the bartender. "You disgusting beetle! Get your filthy mind out of the cesspool."

"A feisty one, eh?" The man leered.

"Oi, fuck off," James nestled Carina into his side, ignoring her stiffness, "this is my wife, and she is simply feeling tired."

"You are disgusting," Carina hissed. James hoped she was addressing the bartender, which was confirmed when she flapped her hand in front of the bartender's face. A sapphire ring had been moved to her left ring finger. "Look at this beautiful wedding ring. You are an absolute scoundrel, and you should be ashamed of yourself!"

James breathed a sigh of relief that Carina was willing to participate in his ruse.

Carina clutched at James's arm. "Darling, I do not think I want to stay at this disgraceful establishment any longer than we have to. I just need a glass of water and a bit of rest, and then we can find a proper place to spend the night."

James nodded and then raised an eyebrow at the bartender. "Our room, then?"

"Here," the man grumbled, handing James a key. "Room 8. What's your name?"

"Don't let it concern you," James said breezily. "We won't be staying long."

"That'll be four galleons and six sickles."

James quickly completed the transaction before finding the room. He was fiddling with the rusted lock when he heard brisk footsteps coming down the narrow hallway.

"Hurry up," Carina hissed, anxiously glancing over her shoulder.

"Good Godric, I'm trying," James said as the key finally clicked into place.

"Carina?" The deep voice caused James's stomach to twist.

"Bloody hell," James swore.

"Carina Black, what the fuck are you doing here?" A man, who was now standing directly behind James, demanded.

"Really, Mr. Bickford-Smith, calm down," Carina snapped, not even facing the man as she stepped into the rented room.

James wanted to avoid a commotion in the hallway, so he grabbed the man's arm and dragged him into the small room with him.

"Who're you?" James demanded. The man he was facing was tall, almost as tall as James. The man's pleasant face was framed by smooth toffee-colored hair. He looked like an alright bloke, if James ignored the fury in his deep-set eyes.

"Miles Bickford-Smith," he said shortly. "Who are you? And what the hell are you doing here, Carina? You've been missing for three years and no one from your precious family has raised a word about your disappearance. Now you're in the Leaky Cauldron of all places! I thought finely-bred pureblood girls weren't allowed in the Leaky!"

"They are not," Carina said primly. "If you could forget you ever saw me and be on your way I would be most grateful."

"You disappeared three years ago, so you must be out of your goddamned mind if you think I am going to walk away without some fucking answers!" Miles Bickford-Smith was so incensed James was worried smoke was going to pour from his ears.

"Hey, mate, let's take a breath and calm down. Both Carina and I are a bit knackered from traveling, and you aren't helping."

"Who're you? You can't be her bloody husband?" The man was aghast at the thought. James was confused by how quickly Miles had lept to that conclusion, but then remembered it was 1931, Carina had a ring on her finger, and she was sharing a room with a man. In 1931 that meant marriage. James missed 2028.

"Er." James was not sure whether or not to continue with the marriage lies.

Carina made the decision for him. "Yes, James and I are married. That is why I disappeared those years ago, and also why I would appreciate you not mentioning my presence here to anyone. If my family knew I was back in England they would kill me." Her voice softened a bit. "Surely you can do that for me, Miles?"

Miles deflated in an angry breath. "I cannot believe you."

"I am not sorry," Carina said.

Carina's non-apology did not appease Miles. "You said you would not abandon your life for me, even though I was ready to give up everything for you!"

"We shared a few ill-considered kisses, Miles! And you only adored the rebellious idea of forbidden love and gallantly saving me from my family, not me. We were forced to work together and became friendly acquaintances, not star-crossed lovers." Carina's voice was nervous and shrill, as if it was taking all her willpower to not shatter. She frowned at Miles and then sped into the adjacent bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

"Mate, really?" Was the only thing James could say. The devastation on Miles's face almost made James feel bad for him.

"What are you doing, bringing her back to England?" Demanded Miles. Although his tone was furious he looked drained. "You don't know her family, they would torture her for disappearing if they knew where she was."

"We ended up here by accident, actually."

"Keep her safe, or I'll be after you," Miles threatened, comfortably grasping his wand. "What's your name?"

"I don't think we'll be seeing each other again," James said.

"I just want to know the name of the one person who was good enough for Carina Black."

"Er, James Evans."

"I'll remember you," Miles promised, before striding out of the room. James flinched when the door slammed shut.

James stared at the unadorned hotel wall across from him and wondered if he was being affected by karma or plain bad luck. Because James was well and truly fucked. He was in 1931, and the desire to return to his home was overwhelming.

The task at hand was daunting. James excelled at breaking curses to make areas in Peru safer, but he had no idea how to escape fucked up time travel situations. And not only was James stuck in 1931 with no idea how to get home, but also the only person he knew in 1931 was a beautiful woman who had a complicated romantic past.

James took a deep breath and tried to shove all his emotions into the deep recesses of his mind. Even though James had been shocked and grief-stricken when he first met Carina in the Auror Office a few days ago, he had still been impressed with her sharp tongue and elegant poise. Unfortunately, admitting to himself that he was attracted to Carina Black, with her gleaming hair and plump lips, was a dangerous path. James had always been shit at romance, so hormones, emotions, and romantic tension needed to stay out of 1931.

With that decision strong in his mind, James warily opened the door to the adjoining room to find Carina laying on the narrow bed, staring resolutely at the ceiling.

"How are you?" His words sounded empty and meaningless in the bare room.

"Fine," Carina said, her voice dull.

"Miles Bickford-Smith left."

"I heard."

"Are you really okay?" James had been surrounded by enough troublesome cousins his whole life to have gained a modicum of emotional sensitivity. "I'm not an expert at being thrown back in time, but I do know internalizing and repressing feelings is a shite way of dealing with them, however British we may be."

"There is a book in the Hogwarts library on time travel. I never read it because the person who wrote it seemed dimwitted, but it may be worth our perusal. I do not want to be in this time any longer than necessary," Carina commented. "Unfortunately it's an old manuscript, so I doubt it would be easily accessible outside of Hogwarts."

"Let's go to Hogwarts then."

"How?"

Of all the questions James had been presented with since meeting Carina, this was the simplest to answer. "Easy. There are passages from Hogsmeade."

"Right, Sirius told me about those," Carina murmured.

The impression of Sirius's omniscient smirk and imperious stride was clear in James's mind. Despite Sirius's disavowal of the Black family it was easy for James to see the familial resemblance between Sirius and Carina. James wondered what Sirius would think of the predicament he and Carina were in.

"We will have to blend in with the students since Hogwarts is in session," Carina said. She sat up and tapped her fingers on the thread-bare quilt. She seemed glad to have a defined goal and something to work towards. "Polyjuice potion will not be hard to obtain."

"_What?_ Where do you expect to get Polyjuice potion?" James disagreed flatly. He had heard enough details from the escapades of his dad, Uncle Ron, and Aunt Hermione to know how useful Polyjuice was, and how hard it was to make.

A sly look transformed Carina's face. "It is easy if you know where to go." She slid off the bed and transfigured a heavy black cloak and a witch's hat from a two pillows with a quick flourish of her wand. "Put on the cloak. You will stand out in your modern attire, and we need to blend in."

"Where are we going?"

"To Gringotts."

"What do we need from Gringotts?"

"A fortune."

"Carina, are we stealing from Gringotts? Because I know it can be done, but I need a few minutes to get myself in the right mental state."

"Steal from Gringotts?" Confusion stole over Carina's face. "Are you an absolute lunatic?"

"Maybe I am a lunatic. But I do know my dad stole from Gringotts in the Second Wizarding War."

"I read about that in one of my books, but I thought it had been dramatized. Are you certain it happened?"

"Goblins still hate the Potters," James grimaced.

"Tell me the details while we retrieve money from Gringotts in a legal fashion." Carina surveyed the room and her mouth crinkled into a small frown. "And let us not return to this dirty room and that awful bartender."

James agreed with that.

Telling Carina the wild story of his father escaping Gringotts on a dragon distracted James from staring at the unfamiliar people and buildings in Diagon Alley. Blatantly missing was the enormous flashing sign for _Weasleys' Wizards Wheezes_.

Carina easily withdrew a large sum of galleons from her account. James was surprised when their first stop after Gringotts was _Madame Goussain's,_ an upscale clothing shop.

"I never shopped here," Carina confided in a low voice. "Elves always made our clothing, or we bought them from Paris or Milan. But _Goussain's_ has what we need."

What they needed, apparently, was new robes, which fit into Carina's newly bought and newly-charmed purse.

Wizarding fashion changed more slowly than Muggle fashion, but James still felt uncomfortable in the heavy, conservative robes.

Carina, with her hair pinned underneath her pointed hat and clothed entirely in black looked like a ruler who could snap her fingers and cause the execution of an impertinent servant. At least Carina seemed more lively than she had in the moments after Miles Bickford-Smith had left.

They were preparing to leave the shop when Carina's fingers tugged at James's arm and she said in a breathy whisper, "Madame Nott just walked in, notice her gaudy yellow robes trimmed with lace. She is addicted to the Muggle drug, morphine, and spends most of her days on the sofa in her sitting room. Her daughter, Hortense, is addicted to gambling, and would sell her mother's morphine to pay off her debts. I found out when I was Head Girl and caught Hortense selling to the Astronomy Professor. Hortense told me everything in a moment of weakness because she also thought I knew she was pregnant with the child of her sister's fiancee. Now her sister, Gertrude, is raising the baby as her own. Which is to say the Nott's must still must be holding on to that dirty secret if Madame Nott dares show her face in public."

"Fucking insane," James muttered, feeling that was the only appropriate reaction.

Carina shrugged nonchalantly, but her true feelings were belied by her grimace. "All the pureblood families have enough scandals and misdeeds to shock even the devil."

"What if she recognizes you?"

"I will Obliviate her," Carina said, too casually for James's comfort. "I should have Obliviated Miles too."

"That's illegal and extremely unethical."

"Do not tell me you are one of those Gryffindors who has a moral compass instead of a brain," Carina groaned.

James frowned. "Obliviation is altering someone's mind without their consent. It's despicable."

"Grandfather Obliviated all the people he thought would miss me before he trapped me in the portrait. I suppose he did not Obliviate Miles, as Miles is a halfblood, and thus beneath Grandfather's attention. Madame Nott was probably Oblivated though, and will not recognize me," Carina explained, as if that solved their ethical dilemma.

"Let's just get out of here," James said. _Madame Goussain's _was neither the place to debate ethics, nor the place to unpack Carina's insane past. James wanted to get out of the shop, and this bloody timeline.

After departing from _Madame Goussain's_ Carina led them down the cobblestones of Diagon Alley, and into Knockturn Alley. After briskly walking for a few minutes James followed Carina into a small bar. A sign above the entrance had a crude carving of a duck swimming in a beer glass. Above the image, _The Lame Duck_, was spelled.

Inside, the bar was empty since it was still the early afternoon. But a hunchback was counting galleons while glowering at an account book.

"Orville," Carina approached the bar to greet the man, "is Gwenllian here?"

"Why?" Orville grunted, without looking up.

"I am looking for her," Carina said, leaning over the bar to stare menacingly at Orville.

"She's upstairs. If I hear a thump I'll assume you annoyed her and she killed you."

Carina didn't look frightened by Orville's sentiment. She gestured for James to follow her through a narrow hallway, up steep stairs, and then down another hallway till she knocked on an indiscript door four times.

The door peeked open as a low rasping voice filled James's ears. "Carina, Carina, I have not seen you in moons."

"Hello, Gwenllian."

"Orville really let you in?"

"I slipped him a few galleons," Carina revealed, surprising James.

"What an old grump. Carina, darling, what was the last thing you ever bought from me?"

"Venomous Tentacula Syrup," Carina whispered, angling her shoulders as if to block out James.

"And?"

"And you tell me. Perhaps you are the imposter."

"Silly girl, of course I know you also bought Japanese Pearl Dust," Gwenllian answered readily. James wondered why Carina was so unwilling to disclose her past purchases.

The door swung open. The room James entered had the deep smell of lavender, but the scent was distorted by the fumes in the air rising from an assortment of cauldrons that had potions of all colors bubbling in them. Heavy brocade curtains prevented most natural light from filtering in, although a single round skylight, and a plethora of candles and lamps prevented the room from being dark. Carpets of various sizes were layered on the floor, so only spots of the dusty hardwood floor peaked through. There were so many shelves on the walls that James was afraid the walls might cave in. Bowls, vases, books, quills, vials, and scrolls were arranged haphazardly on the shelves.

The only seating arrangement was a low table surrounded by lumpy threadbare cushions. Carina sat down on one of these cushions, but James investigated an intricately decorated bowl on one of the shelves.

"Careful with the bowl," Gwenllian cautioned. "If you look at it sideways you will be plagued with nightmares for six nights."

James grimaced and stepped away.

Gwenllian was an indefinable age. She was as sprite as a teenager, but the wrinkles around her eyes suggested she was older. Her long neck and nonexistent chin gave Gwenllian the unfortunate appearance of a turtle, a resemblance that persisted though Gwenllian moved her head frantically while talking like an over-excited bird.

Gwenllian suited the eclectic and mysterious atmosphere of the room. Her bright red skirt was lined with iridescent yellow stripes; the loose skirt flowed and drifted around her ankles while Gwenllian watered her array of plants with a shining copper tea kettle. Her yellow shirt had delicate birds of paradise embroidered onto it, but the birds moved and fluttered as if they were trying to fly off the shirt and join the other oddities in the apartment.

Gwenllian also wore a wide leather belt, that had small sheathes for three differently sized cutting knives. A rag was also stuck on the belt, as was a cooking ladle, so Gwenllian jangled like a wind chime whenever she moved. Adding to the wind chime effect were the numerous bangles on Gwenllian's arms, beaded necklaces roped around her slim neck, and large earrings.

"Hello, dear. Who are you?" Gwenllian inquired once she finished watering her plants. Her bulging eyes were disconcertingly focused on James.

"James Evans." James decided to stay with the moniker he had given Miles Bickford-Smith.

"Evans, Evans, Evans." Gwenllian seized James's palms with her slender fingers which felt cold against James's hand. One finger lightly traced one of the lines stretching across James's palm. Gwenllian stared at his palm long enough to make James shift his posture uncomfortably. She took James's other hand and compared them. "Hmmm."

"What, are my secrets written in code on my hands?" James asked sarcastically. This woman was eerie.

"Of course not, the nargles must have made you think that," Gwenllian said.

"The nargles? Are you a Lovegood?" James accused. The disconcerting familiarity of this woman made sense now.

"A Lovegood? Honey, I'm a Fenwick. Why would you think I am a Lovegood?" Gwenllian's protruding sapphire eyes traveled back up to James's. They shared an uncomfortable moment of gazing into each other's eyes. James looked away first.

"Do you know any Lovegoods?" James persisted, certain this odd woman was somehow related to Luna Lovegood Scamander.

"My twin sister married a Lovegood. She gave birth to a boy just a few weeks ago," Gwenllian said slowly. Then, as if seized by a jolt of electricity, she dropped James's hands and bounded over to where Carina was seated on the cushions.

"Carina, darling, where have you been the past few years? Traveling or stuck? Stuck or traveling?"

"Curiosity killed the Ravenclaw, Gwenllian," Carina evaded.

"Sometimes I simply cannot help myself, and Mr. Evans is just so fascinating. I thought the only men with such marvelously intriguing faces and that fun hair were Potters."

"Really?" Carina held Gwenllian's gaze for a second before her silver eyes flicked to James. "Mr. Evans, are you sure you are not a Potter?"

James shrugged. "No pots here."

Gwenllian giggled more than James's comment deserved. "Darling, you are such a laugh."

"We came here for business," Carina said flatly.

"Business, I do business with many people. I deliver a specific pain-killing mixture to a Mr. Phineas Black on 12 Marbough Street every month. But the question is, what do _you_ need today, love?"

"Polyjuice Potion," Carina said.

"Ah, Polyjuice Potion, perfect for when you need to escape who you are. You want the usual amount?" Gwenllian asked. James wondered why Carina had a 'usual' amount of Polyjuice Potion she bought.

"Twice as much."

"Twice as much since Mr. James Evans, not Mr. James Potter, is accompanying you?" Gwenllian did not wait for a response before she fluttered over to another corner of the room. "I think this hair pin and this mirror will be useful to you as well," Gwenllian suggested after she checked on her simmering potions and retrieved two jars filled with thick brown liquid and two small vials. "That will be 70 galleons."

James expected Carina to refuse, or to at least barter the price, but instead Carina quickly agreed to the sale.

"Goodbye, loves. Don't forget me," Gwenllian said cheerily, as James and Carina escaped the unsettling apartment. Once the door was closed James turned to Carina and commented, "odd bird."

"Gwenllian Fenwick is an excellent potioneer, but her methods are too unorthodox to be granted a Potion's Master license," Carina said. "So she does her business informally."

"How did you find her?" James asked, hoping to answers to at least some of his many questions. He had only been in 2028 for an hour or so, but already the strangeness and unfamiliarity of his surroundings were pressing down on James, making him feel exhausted and anxious.

"Gwenllian has an aptitude for finding the people who need her services," Carina said.

"What was that bit about Phineas Black?"

"She was reminding me of my uncle."

"Why?"

"Uncle Phineas was disowned about ten years ago. He could be a source of help for us. First we need to go to Hogwarts," Carina's tone was business-like. "Enough questions about Gwenllian. We need a plan."

The plan was constructed over tea and scones in a shadowed corner booth in Orville's pub downstairs. Orville had offered them tea to congratulate them on escaping Gwenllian.

"She's a bit off, but as long as she pays rent and doesn't burn down the place I won't complain too much," Orville had rumbled once he brought them the surprisingly good tea. "I also have some scones if you want. Scones always help me after a run in with her." James had agreed to the scones, which turned out deliciously warm and buttery. James thought the food helped him and Carina draw up the brilliantly simple plan:

Step 1. Floo to Hogsmeade

Step 2. Go through the passage from Hogsmeade to Hogwarts

Step 3. Stun two students and take their hair for the Polyjuice Potion

Step 4. Go to the library and retrieve the book

Step 5. Leave without attracting attention to ourselves.

Step 6. Read the book and find a way home (!)

Carina had problems with the plan. "You realize there are infinite ways this can go wrong?"

"We'll wing it, no plan is perfect, but this is pretty decent since we have Polyjuice. And look," James reached into his magically enlarged pockets to retrieve some useful items. It was too bad that his sister Lily had the Invisibility Cloak, and that his little cousin Roxy had the Marauders' Map, but James still had a collection of useful odds and ends. James put Peruvian Darkness Powder and three Decoy Detonators on the table before reaching into his other pocket. "Nice, some Weasley's Whizbangs, I forgot I had those. I don't know why we'd need an Extendable Ear, but they can be dead useful, and Fainting Fancies and Puking Pastilles are always good to have."

"What are those?" Carina asked.

"Just some stuff from _Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes,_" James said. "I try to be prepared. Though I never had being stuck in the 1930s in mind when I stuffed this all in my pockets."

"How will this help if Headmaster Dippet finds the students we stunned?"

"He won't find them, first of all. And second, we can use a Decoy Detanator as a _decoy_ so we can escape."

"And if other students suspect we are not the people we are pretending to be?"

"Give them a Pastille. They can't think too hard if they're trying to find a rubbish bin to throw up in."

Carina opened her mouth to bring up another possible problem but James interrupted her. "Relax, Carina. We're just trying to read a book."

"You think I am going to trust you, the man with less brain than a cucumber sandwich?" Carina said, her voice suddenly the dangerous hiss of restless snake. "You are the reason we are in this horrifying predicament!" James noticed her delicate skin was flushed with anger.

"I am actually rather fond of cucumber sandwiches," James retorted. Carina's glare intensified so James held up his hands. "Blame me, kill me, defenestrate me, maim me, whatever, but do it after we get back to our time, please." James ignored the terrifying thought that time travel forward was likely impossible. "I understand touching that blasted amulet brought us here. But Teddy and Dad checked the amulet. They were certain there were no dangerous hexes attached to it. I am not an absolute idiot."

"Yes, you are!" Carina battled, silver eyes flashing. "You absolutely are an idiot. The incalculable arrogance of Mr. Lupin and Mr. Potter to think they could judge how safe the amulet was when they have no understanding of blood magic is obscene! I informed them that Madame Burke died because of blood magic, yet they thought their basic understanding of curses was sufficient to deem the amulet safe to examine."

"I actually think my dad understands curses, but fine," James said, unwilling to let this argument with Carina go in useless circles. "So why do think the amulet brought us back here? I know you've been thinking about it."

Carina frowned and tapped her fingers on the wooden table. "I have been thinking about it, although it is difficult to know anything without the amulet to examine. I suppose the magic in your blood connected too strongly with the magic in the amulet, and transported us through time. We might have landed soon after the amulet was created, as that is when its magic would be the strongest."

"Like an evil Portkey for time travel?"

Carina's eyelashes fluttered as she rolled her eyes. "Sure."

"Alright then, let's get to Hogwarts and see if we can find anything on time travel."

Carina took a last sip of tea. "Orville," she called, "thank you for the tea and scones. Could we use your Floo?"

"Go ahead," grunted Orville.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

**AN: So this really is a time-travel story.**

**Also I'm sorry for any of my blatant Americanisms. I try to avoid them the best I can, but as I am an ~American~ I don't know all the British colloquialisms. Most of what I know about modern Great Britain is from the Great British Bake Off. **

**Anyways.**

**Here's a snippet for the next chapter:**

[Carina jumped to her feet like a spark. "You have no right to judge me, you self-righteous blithering fool!" She spat, eyes blazing. "You have no idea, absolutely no idea how I made my decision. But I am a Slytherin, and a Black, so you think I must be some homicidal lunatic!"]

**All my love and gratitude to everyone who is reading this story. Please leave a review and tell me what you think!**

**Love, petitecanard**


	7. Chapter 7

**TW: brief mention of sexual violence**

"Buggering _shit!_" James swore.

They had tumbled out of the Floo to the Hog's Head and easily found their way to Honeyduke's. Now Carina and James were standing in the back corner of Honeyduke's, but James couldn't find the passageway. "The entrance isn't here."

"Of course it is," Carina disagreed, tone brusque. "Sirius said the passageway was ancient when he used it."

"Then where the hell is it?"

"I will look around, so keep an eye out for people in the shop," Carina ordered.

They switched places, James shuffling awkwardly around Carina so she could reach the hidden nook where the trapdoor was supposed to be. Carina started murmuring various incantations until there was a muffled thump, followed by a crash.

James whipped around. There was no Carina, but there was a spot on the floor that was now missing a few floorboards. Quickly, as to avoid notice, James fit himself through the hole in the floor and found himself in a large dirty tunnel which stretched forward into void darkness.

Carina was laying on the ground.

"Merlin's balls! Are you alright?" James asked nervously.

"I fell when I broke through the entranceway. I am fine, just bruised and covered in dirt. But I was right, the entrance was there."

"You were right," James admitted easily. He offered his hand to pull Carina up, and she accepted. "And you are dirty."

Carina flourished her wand, making the dirt disappear. "Better?"

"Hmmm," James hummed in disagreement, surprising even himself when he used the pad of his thumb to brush a speck of dirt off of Carina's cheek. "All good now."

James carefully replaced the floorboards to cover up the passage entrance and muttered _lumos _so they could see the rounded ceiling and scattered pebbles on the ground. They set off through the passageway in silence, but James could only bear the quiet for a few minutes.

"So," he began, searching for something to say, "what stories did Sirius tell you?"

"He primarily talks about his time at Hogwarts," Carina said, crisp voice carrying clearly in the empty tunnel. "He and his friends would use this passageway when they wanted to ditch class, or if they wanted to buy firewhiskey for a Gryffindor party."

"You know, I've heard about Sirius my whole life, but I never thought I would meet him."

"Hopefully you will have a chance to get to know him more," Carina said softly. "Sirius is wonderful. A bit mad, but I understand why your grandfather would have wanted him as a best friend."

James was surprised by Carina's kind sentiment, and momentarily at a loss for words. "Er, yeah, I hope I get to know Sirius better too." They walked somberly until James tried to lighten the mood again. "My Aunt Hermione turned into a cat-human thing the first time she used Polyjuice Potion. Hopefully that doesn't happen to us, eh?"

James expected Carina to retort something along the lines of "idiot," or "only a useless loon would do something that stupid," but Carina surprised him with her murmured sympathies; "that can happen to the best of us."

James swung his wand so the light from the _lumos_ charm illuminated Carina's shadowed features. Carina avoided his eyes, instead focusing on the dim pathway.

"Wait, did you . . . did you turn into a cat?" James asked, his raucous laughter echoing down the passage.

"I never turned into a cat."

James chuckled heartily. "What did you turn into then? Come on, tell me."

Carina continued to avoid James's amused gaze. "If you must know, a dog-human disgusting thing. It was awful."

"_Merlin!_ How?"

"I used to buy Polyjuice from Gwenllian so I could escape Grimmauld Place and explore London sometimes," Carina said. James was relieved to find a relatively harmless explanation for why Carina was an avid Polyjuice consumer. "I would usually turn into one of my brothers, because that was easiest. After my brother Regulus bought a dog I did not realize dog hair would get on _everything_. I accidentally took a dog hair and grew ears and a tail. I did not leave my room in Grimmauld Place for a whole day until it wore off. After that I was much more discerning about what hairs I chose." Carina told the story in a monotone, but by the end James detected a hint of wryness in her words.

"Holy Hippogriffs!" James said, mind alight with the vision of prim and proper Carina turned into a dog. "Self-pranks are the funniest."

"Now you have to tell me a terribly embarrassing story," Carina ordered.

"Hmm, well I never turned into a dog, so I guess I don't have a comparable story," James teased.

"I am sure you managed to do something harebrained."

"No, I never turned into a hare, either," James said, but he could feel Carina's glare so he relented. "I did once spend the night on top of the Gryffindor Tower, though."

"On top?"

"So the Ravenclaw Tower is a tiny bit taller than the Gryffindor Tower," James started. "Only by approximately one or two meters, but it still was a point of contention. Back in Sixth Year I was sore from a Quidditch loss to them, and a bit tipsy since people had bought Butterbeer and Firewhiskey before the game because they expected us to win. I had the brill idea to attach a pole to the Gryffindor Tower so at least it would be taller than the Ravenclaw one. . . ."

"That is unbelievably dumb," Carina interrupted, but with a small giggle that pleased James.

"Alright, I was past tipsy," James chuckled as the hazy, alcohol-tinged memories rushed back to him. "Anyways, I took my broom and flew up to the roof with a long pole that curtains had hung from. I landed on the roof, but I was holding my wand, broom, and the pole, you see, and trying to stand on the roof so I dropped my broom and it fell. I figured I could just Summon my broom when I was done with my project."

James shook his head, remembering his stupidity, "so I attached the pole to the tower with a Permanent Sticking Charm that was pretty decent considering my mental state. I was pleased, and going to come down, but then Professor Longbottom, our Head of House, busted the Gryffindor pity party. Longbottom is a decent bloke, but I didn't want to get in trouble, so I decided to stay silent until he left. I was also a bit worried I would fall off the Tower and, you know, dying, so I transfigured my shirt into a rope and tied myself to the pole so I wouldn't fall off. But I'm not too nifty with knots, so in the process of making sure I wouldn't die I dropped my wand too. It wasn't worth it to shimmy down and risk my neck to get into the Gryffindor Common room without a wand, so I just slept there."

"You twit!" Carina laughed without any menace. "Who found you?"

James ran his hand through his hair ruefully. "In the morning I started hollering and making noise so someone would notice, and, well, someone did. Portia Pelkey found me hungover, half-dressed, and tied to the Gryffindor roof. I happened to have a raging crush on her at the time. She was also Head Girl, so she reported me. McGonogall went mad, seriously I thought she was going to explode into angry fireworks," James shrugged good-naturedly, "but the Gryffindor Tower is taller now, I became a Hogwarts legend, we ended up winning the Quidditch Cup that year, and Portia Pelkey is a gossip anyways. It all turned out perfectly fine." Of course, James hadn't realized how much of a gossip Portia was until a few years after he had graduated from Hogwarts.

"Perfectly fine?" Carina gasped. "You call that perfectly fine? What did your parents do?"

"Ah, Dad thought it was dead funny. Mum was peeved at first, but then her Gryffindor pride got to her and she realized I did good work making that tower higher."

"You are ridiculous," Carina said.

James grinned, glad that he had made Carina laugh. He wanted to tell Carina about a Christmas prank he and Louis pulled in Seventh Year, but they turned a corner and nearly collided with a stone wall.

"We're at Hogwarts." James frowned, apprehension settling uncomfortably in his stomach.

"You are as observant as ever," Carina said, sounding apprehensive as well.

James tapped the wall with his wand and it melted away. He tried to step through but he felt a tug at his sleeve. James turned his head to find Carina looking worried.

She bit her lip, glancing nervously at the wall in front of them. "What do we do?"

"We'll just be quiet and Stun the first students to come around," James said, reminding himself that he was a bloody Gryffindor who had been carrying out half-arsed plans since the day he was born. His mother had once accused him of acting like he was drunk on Felix Felicis; Ginny Potter had not been complimenting him, but still, James had taken those words to heart.

Carina, it seemed, preferred planning. "I'll recognize some students. We should Stun a student who's name I know so we can have a better sense of who we are impersonating."

It took more than ten minutes of crouching in a hidden nook under a strong Disillusionment Charm for a proper target to wander by. Carina smoothly and wordlessly Stunned her.

James cast a Feather-Light Charm on the body and dragged it into the passageway. "Who've we got here?"

"I think this is Margery Brannis," Carina said. "Ravenclaw, Sixth or Seventh Year."

Ten minutes later they stunned someone else, who Carina said was Nigel McLaughlin.

"McLaughlin is a Prefect," Carina pointed to the shiny badge pinned neatly on the black robes, "which is lucky because if we are questioned we can say we have Prefect's business."

James cut off a lock of Nigel's brown hair and watched it dissolve in his jar of Polyjuice Potion. "Eugh," he complained before gulping it down. His body started bubbling as the potion rushed through him, making his trembling limbs shrink, his hair twisting painfully into his skull. Even James's eyes hurt. The feeling of his body changing, growing shorter, and his chin getting longer made James want to tear out his skin and climb into his old, normal body.

Carina did not look upset by her changing body, but she had more experience with Polyjuice. It was strange to look at Carina, and know it was Carina, but see a tall blonde girl with a large nose.

James bent down and began to unfasten Nigel's robes.

"Potter!" Carina said sharply, her voice much higher than usual due to the Polyjuice. "Why are you _undressing_ Mr. McLaughlin?"

"Merlin, I'm not a pervert. We need their Hogwarts robes to cover our not-Hogwarts clothing," James said, sounding raspier in this new body.

"Oh," Carina said. She too began unfastening Margery's robes.

Minutes later they were on their way to the Hogwarts library. "It's a Friday, so I hope there's only the swottiest of swots in the library," James said flippantly, pretending he wasn't stumbling through the halls on his shorter than normal legs.

"The swottiest of swots?"

"Yeah, the nerds, dorks, and spend their whole life studying sort."

"I spent my whole time studying in the library."

James found the spot he was leading them through and touched Carina's arm to guide her through the passage. "Through here."

"What in Merlin's name?" Carina murmured, wide-eyed. "I had no idea this was here."

"I guess you spent too much time studying," James said. "This brings us pretty close to the library, and that way we can avoid people."

No one paid James and Carina attention when they emerged from a tapestry that decorated the same corridor which led to the library.

They strode with faux confidence into the library, and then stood still. Carina's hands started trembling noticeably as she fiddled with the rings on her hands. James guided Carina to a table on the side. "Are you alright? You've gone pale."

"Fine."

"Really now?" James raised a skeptical eyebrow at her. Once he and Teddy had spent hours in front of a mirror practicing the art of raising a single, inquisitive eyebrow. It was a truly useful skill.

Carina leaned closer to him so she could speak quietly. "In the portrait, there was, it was a copy, but the Hogwarts library was in the portrait with me. Grandfather believed it would make being trapped less painful," Carina explained bitterly. "I did not realize being back in the library after that would be so dreadful."

James put his hand on Carina's hand in a way he hoped was calming. "Take your time, but do you remember where the book is? The sooner we get it, the sooner we can be out of here. We'll just do a quick grab and dash."

Carina still looked ill, but she nodded, a shaking, tremulous motion. "Follow me."

James followed Carina through the familiar towering bookshelves into a far corner of the library that he had never investigated during his whole time at Hogwarts.

Carina stopped and stared at the bookshelf to her right. "We are in the wrong place," she finally muttered. They retraced their steps through more cluttered bookshelves until James was certain they were lost. "Here we are." Carina reached up and grabbed a bright red book off the shelf. She flipped through the pages. "This is it."

"Great, let's go."

"We cannot take the book from Hogwarts!" Carina said. "What if other people need it?"

"What do you suggest we do then?" James demanded.

Carina reached into a pocket in her robes, reaching until her elbow down was in the pocket. She pulled out a flashing knife.

"Bloody hell, Carina, what are you doing?" James barely had time to swear before Carina made a small cut on her left index finger, and then made four precise red dots on the book, one in each corner. "That's really fucking unhygienic!"

Carina continued to ignore him, and made a complicated series of waves with her wand. Another book appeared on top of the first one. It was an exact copy. Carina, looking smug, waved the new book in front of James's shocked face. "Magic is marvelous."

"How did you do that?" James reached out to brush the new book with his fingertips.

"So," Carina mused, "there are certain limits to regular magic. You cannot make something out of nothing, even with magic. Transfiguration is useful because you can make something out of anything. Charms is just the use of energy. If we had enough parchment I could have just done a copying charm, and we would have essentially the same result. But it is impossible to wave your wand and conjure a house, or a bathtub, or anything, because there is no anchor for the magic. Blood, magical blood that is, can act as a powerful anchor for magic, and can also magnify its power. That is why I could make a copy of this book with only blood and magic."

Carina's face, even while looking like someone else, glowed when she expounded on the never ending marvels of magic.

"That is _fascinating_," James said frankly.

"_I know!_" But Carina's expression sobered. "Unfortunately the use of blood in spells led to the inaccurate belief that purebloods are better at magic. People, especially inbred purebloods, are quite delusional."

"Yeah, people suck," James agreed. "But we have the book!"

"Right, we have the book," Carina bit her lip, "perhaps we should look for more books."

"Don't have to look far, we're surrounded by them. You look here, and," a sudden thought struck James, "I am going to pop over to the Potions section. At least I will if I can find my way out of this back corner of the library. Are you certain we're still in Hogwarts?"

"We are still in Hogwarts, James," Carina said dryly. "Walk straight and you will find yourself in the main corridor through the library."

"Thanks, I won't be long."

Carina was already entranced in looking through the bookshelves to find more information on time travel.

James headed off for the Potions section.

The _Exhaustive Encyclopedia of Potions Ingredients_ was easy to locate due to its ridiculous size, making other books look miniscule in comparison. James took the book and flipped to the index. He tried to remember what Gwenllian said Carina had bought when she last visited Gwenllian, which Carina had been so unwilling to say. . . Venomous Tentacula Syrup and Japanese Pearl Dust.

James ran his finger down the Vs, searching for Venomous Tentacula Syrup.

_Venomous Tentacula Syrup is a mildly poisonous extract. It is hard to collect and not especially useful, so it is uncommon in potion-making. Of note, if mixed with equal parts Japanese Pearl Dust, which serves to enhance the properties of the Venomous Tentacula Syrup, a clear, odorless, and deadly poison is made. As Venomous Tentacula Syrup is difficult to obtain, and Japanese Pearl Dust is extremely expensive, the strong poison made from heating these two substances is rare._

James read it once more as the meaning sunk in and his head began to pound. James flew across the library after the realization stabbed him. Moments later he was in front of Carina.

"Hello, I made a copy of this book. I think it will be useful," she said, gesturing to a thin book by her side.

James slammed the open potions book down in front of Carina. She glanced questioningly at the book, and then at James.

"Read this," James ordered, pointing his trembling index finger at the paragraph he had just read.

Carina skimmed the paragraph. "Every good potioneer knows about Venomous Tentacula Syrup and Japanese Pearl Dust. How is it relevant?"

"Don't play games!" James was so incensed he couldn't bear to be near Carina. He leapt up and started pacing, wanting to put distance between him and this madwoman he had been sallied with. "At Gwenllian's you said the last things you bought from her were those two ingredients! Who did you poison? Godric, did you murder someone? Maybe you're carrying around deadly poison right now for all I bloody know!"

By now it should emblazoned in James's mind that he should not trust beautiful women with tantalizing smirks. James had been foolish to blindly trust Carina.

But James's first reaction upon being thrown into 1931 was that he was lucky to have Carina, that they would be a team. After all, Sirius trusted Carina, and James trusted Sirius. It was too late, but now James knew himself to be a bloody idiot, the simpleton Carina had accused him of being.

Carina jumped to her feet like a spark. "You have no right to judge me, you self-righteous blithering fool!" She spat, eyes blazing. "You have no idea, absolutely no idea how I made my decision. But I am a Slytherin, and a Black, so you think I must be some homicidal lunatic!"

"Don't put words in my mouth," James growled, ending his angry pacing so he could glare at Carina. "I just want to know the truth." James shivered, desperate to know the truth. "Who did you kill? Tell me it was worth it."

Carina did not respond, only folding her arms defiantly, which increased James's fury. "Carina," he said, his own voice so rough and furious that he barely recognized it. _"Who did you kill?"_

"Why do you even care? I killed someone! Do you care who or why, or do you just want to prance on your Gryffindor pedestal and judge me?" Carina screamed. James ran a hand through his messy hair in frustration.

"Look," James clenched his fists, digging his fingernails into his palms, "we're going to spend a lot of time together trying to figure out how the hell to get out of here. I just want to know if I am gallivanting about with someone with at least a touch of morality. Am I with someone I can trust, or will you off me the moment I annoy you?"

"You annoy me incessantly and you are still alive," Carina retorted, voice sharper than a knife.

"Carina," James pleaded.

Carina marched up to James and glared fiercely at him. "You think I wanted to kill him?" She was seething, yet regret emanated from her. "You think I enjoyed slipping the potion into his drink?"

"Who was it?"

"Lycoris! I killed Lycoris! I killed my brother, because he deserved to be sent to Azkaban, but the law does not apply to useless Pureblood heirs! He was assaulting muggle girls, which I found out when I was disguised as Lycoris and the father of one of the muggle girls attacked me. I spent months making sure of the truth, and then I tried to make Father do something, but no one cared."

Carina's explanation shocked James, making him nauseous, bile climbing traitorously up his raw throat.

Carina's voice was thick with emotion. "You have to understand, James, no one cared about the fate of those girls. I searched for every solution; I confronted Lycoris amd I tried to make him stop drinking. I tried everything. My brother was so spoiled that he did not care for anyone but himself. There were never any repercussions, nothing ever stood in his path. Lycoris was so cruel and horrible that he would go muggle-hunting with Robert Fawley. Even Arcturus was not so devoid of empathy and decency. The only way to protect people from Lycoris's violent tendencies was to kill him. So I did." Carina was fully crying now, her voice hoarse from the ragged sobs that were rolling out of her like waves crashing on sharp rocks.

James stiffly hugged Carina, trying to soothe her. "It's okay, it's okay. I'm sorry I brought it up."

"It is not okay," Carina insisted through a broken sob. "I hate that I did it."

"It will be okay," James repeated, saying anything to make the situation better. "We'll use these nifty books to get back home. And when we're home you can forget your bloody evil family, and you can join mine. I have so many cousins that no one will notice a new one. And Sirius is practically already part of the family, and Scorpius and Teddy are distant relatives of yours, and they're part of the family too. Andromeda comes to all our family events and she is a Black. You'll fit right in."

James did not blame Carina for not responding to his jumbled sentiments.

After a few more moments of weeping Carina stepped back from James and silently picked up the books on the ground. She roughly wiped tears from her red cheeks and looked away from James. "We need to get out of this library," she ordered. "It makes me horribly introspective."

Carina took a few more moments to copy more books and stash them in her array of charmed pockets. After deciding that copying all five books the Hogwarts library had on time travel was sufficient started to make their way through the bookshelves. They had barely emerged into the main area of the library that was littered with tables when Carina abruptly hid behind a bookshelf.

She explained herself when James gave her a questioning look. "My cousins, Lucretia and Callidora, are studying there. They will not recognize me, but. . . ."

"You don't have to explain yourself, we'll just get through another way." James hadn't realized Carina would have cousins at Hogwarts.

Carina nodded gratefully and then led James on a winding path through another maze of bookshelves until they were out of the library. James breathed a sigh of relief.

Unfortunately, someone was waiting for them outside the library doors.

"Nigel, love." In other circumstances James would have appreciated a beautiful girl grabbing his hand and kissing his cheek, but right now James wanted to sprint in the other direction.

"Er. . . ."

"We're supposed to be going on a picnic right now," the girl chatted, ignoring James's discomfort. "So I was surprised when Iva told me she saw you in the library. Especially since Iva told me you were with _her_." The girl fixed a piercing gaze on Carina.

"Hello, Felicity," Carina said evenly. Thank Godric that Carina knew this angry girl's name.

"Sorry, about that, Prefect's business," James excused wildly as the girl still clutched his hand.

"Brannis isn't a Prefect."

"But I am, and since I found Brannis trying to shrink table legs to make the library tables wobbly, I decided to escort her out of the library."

Felicity's eyes narrowed suspiciously at Carina, a disdainful sneer ruining her delicate features. "You were pulling a prank, Brannis? Seems more your style to stop any potential fun since you're hoping Headmaster Dippet will make you Head Girl next year, even though you're not a Prefect. But you need to get that dumb idea out of your thick head because I am the Ravenclaw Prefect, not you, and that Head Girl's badge is _mine_."

"I have had a change of heart," Carina replied, tone icy, "since being Head Girl means I would be forced to spend more time around silly bints like you." Carina's thin smile was dangerously taunting.

Felicity's wand was in her hand. "What did you call me, you filthy _mudblood_ slut?"

"Now let's just pause for a moment." James stepped in the middle of the impending duel. "Brannis, I'm going to report you to the first Professor we find. Felicity, let me deal with Brannis and then we can go on our picnic. But isn't a bit early for a picnic?"

"It's only a few hours past noon and I haven't eaten," Felicity snapped.

"It's still that early?" James was shocked, he felt like he had been in this timeline for weeks. "I guess times flies when you're keeping order in the Hogwarts halls."

Both Carina and Felicity looked at James like he was going insane. He probably was.

"I'll go with you, to report Brannis," Felicity said. "I just saw Professor Holbeck in his office. I want to be there when he realizes his perfect teacher's pet is just another dumb _mudblood_ bitch."

It took all of James's self-control to not hex his supposed girlfriend whenever that disgusting slur left her lips.

"Alright, let's find Professor Holbeck," James agreed. "Sorry for postponing our picnic. Here," James dug into his pocket and pulled out the dangerous half of a Fainting Fancy, "I mail-ordered this new type of candy from Honeyduke's and it's really good, try some. Candy and watching Brannis get in trouble, the day can't get much better than that."

Felicity plucked the piece out of James's palm and chewed on it. "Nigel, I think you wasted your money. This doesn't taste like candy, it tastes like. . . ." Felicity collapsed onto the ground, book bag falling heavily alongside her. James felt vindicated by the slight thump her head made on the stone floor.

James did not have time to appreciate how well his uncle's mischievous products worked, because they were not alone in the corridor. A girl who had just turned the corner into the hallway rushed over and wailed over Felicity's limp form. "Felicity! Oh my Merlin, is she alright?"

"Clearly not," James said. He hoped a proper amount of concern was in his voice, but he doubted it. "I have to bring Brannis to Professor Holbeck, so can you bring Felicity to the Infirmary? I'll check on her as soon as I can."

"Yes, yes, of course," the girl said.

James nodded curtly, and then made a show of dragging Carina down the hallway.

"Nigel," the girl still clasping Felicity called, "Professor Holbeck's office is the other way."

"Yes, I know that," James said. "I guess I'm bit flustered with worry about Felicity."

The girl nodded understandingly, but James didn't wait for an response as he walked away.

Once they were in an empty corridor James burst out saying, "I can't believe Nigel is dating that deranged cow, such bad taste."

"Felicity Flint was always a brat," Carina agreed. "She is actually my third cousin."

"Eugh! I am so sorry." James's mouth curled in disgust. He was lucky to have marvelous, if crazy, cousins instead of cunts like Felicity Flint.

"She is not the worst person I am related to," Carina sighed, wordlessly relaying how horribly twisted her family was. "Good thinking with that Fainting Fancy, though."

James grinned. "Thank you."

James realized they were walking in the opposite direction of where the passageway back to Hogsmeade was. "We're going the wrong way, and I'd rather not go back past the library. We should go through the Great Hall."

"No."

"No?"

"My portrait is hanging in the Great Hall."

"Oh, I didn't know it was in the Great Hall." It struck James as inexplicably odd that he had spent seven years in Hogwarts, but had never paid attention to Carina, or rather portrait Carina. James wanted to ask if Carina noticed him, but instead he focused on the complication of a time traveler being seen by her past self. "You look like Margery Brannis though, so even if you in the portrait sees now you, portrait you won't recognize you and thus be driven into insanity, or whatever."

"That is true," Carina conceded, tapping her foot on the stone floor while thinking. "And it is 1931, so portrait me might be sleeping."

"Huh?"

"The portrait was an extraordinary piece of magic that I still do not completely understand. I had potions ingredients in it, and after two or three years of boredom I brewed a powerful sleeping potion. The only reason I was not driven insane by a century of solitude is because I was napping for most of it. I would sleep for a few months, wake up for a few months, and then sleep again. But I ran out of sleeping potion in, well, I think it was 2026."

"Sure." James wished he could say something intelligent to someone who had lived and slept through things he had only heard stories of, but his mind was uncharacteristically blank. James gladly welcomed the distraction of the bustling Great Hall.

James intended to hurry through the Great Hall, as he did not want another Felicity Flint debacle. But of their own accord his eyes glanced around the Great Hall until they settled on a life size portrait of Carina Black in luxurious emerald green robes. She was not sleeping. She was reading a book while looking exactly like pre-Polyjuice Carina. The sight was disturbing, like everything else in 1931.

"James," Carina murmured in his ear, her warm breath in his ear distracting James. "You cannot stop walking in the middle of the Great Hall."

"Right," James said, so flustered that he had not realized he was standing still.

He felt another tug on his arm. "Come _on_," Carina insisted, but James still didn't move. It wasn't until he someone called across the hall, "oi, McLaughlin," that his feet started moving and James hurried across the Great Hall with Carina.

Although the image of portrait Carina remained vivid in James's mind, once they were past the Great Hall it was easy to return to the Stunned Nigel McLaughlin and Margery Brannis in the passageway.

"Merlin, they are going to be confused when they wake up," James said.

"We have other things to worry about," Carina chided. She hurried towards the passageway, clearly desperate to escape Hogwarts.

"Good Godric, I've never been so happy to leave Hogwarts," James said while they were walking through the secret tunnel. "And if my mate, McLaughlin, knows whats good for him he'll dump Felicity's arse quicker than I can say Felicity Fuckwad Flint fortuitously faints fancily."

Carina snickered. "Your 'mate,' McLaughlin?"

"Yeah, I'd say I've gotten to know him pretty well. He has warts on his feet, dandruff in his hair, and a lunatic for a girlfriend."

"Ew." Carina wrinkled her nose. "Despite Nigel McLaughlin and Felicity Flint, taking books from Hogwarts went better than I expected," Carina admitted.

"You worrywart. What did you expect to happen?"

"Fear is not rational, James."

James fell silent. He thought it was perfectly rational to be afraid of being stuck forever in the past, forever lost from his James had to admit that if he was going to be thrown into the hellscape of 1931, it was fortunate he was with girl from that time.

Carina started digging into one of her pockets when they approached the door that led to Hogsmeade. "Here," she pulled out two blue vials, "these are antidotes to the Polyjuice, so our features do not suddenly change while we are in a crowd of people."

They both swallowed the sickly sweet liquid and felt their bodies remold and readjust. "Finally," James muttered, happily pulling his hand through his familiar silky mess of hair.

Enjoying the familiarly sweet taste of butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks made the hippogriffs in James's stomach calm down, even if he was wading through paragraphs about the complications of time travel.

"James, listen," Carina sounded breathless and excited, "listen to the foreword to this book:

"'_This book was written by one of the few proven time-travelers in recorded history: Sir Elihu Hinkley. Little is known about Hinkley because he lived during the 1600s and all of his records were burnt in the 1700s because the Ministry of Magic believed they incited dangerous time travel. Only three copies of Hinkley's books on his time travel survive. Hinkley did not describe how he time-traveled, because he also thought time-travel was too dangerous to be readily available information. He merely described his adventures. However, for enterprising individuals, the ghost of Sir Elihu Hinkley resides in the Trollsbridge Cemetery on the outskirts of London._'"

"Bloody excellent!" James exclaimed. "That's fantastic information. Let's go to the cemetery right now. We can Floo back to Orville's pub and then go to Trollsbridge."

"Right now?"

"Course, no time to waste. Besides he's a ghost. It's not like we need to make an appointment with his secretary to meet with him."

"Right," Carina agreed. James gulped down his butterbeer. He and Carina were off to see a ghost.

James allowed a glimmer of hope, as precarious as sunshine on a cloudy day, to take root in his mind. Maybe he would see his family again after all.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

**AN: Please review and tell me what you think!**

**Here's a snippet for the next chapter:**

["I hope you have reconciled yourself to an eternity of thankless misery you toad of a pathetic human being!" Carina shrieked, grabbing James's hand in a furious hold.]

**Love you all,**

**petitecanard**


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: yeet**

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Carina and James found Sir Elihu Hinkley in an appropriately eerie setting. If James had not been so incredibly glad to see the ghost he would have made a snide comment about how cliched it was to find a ghost in a graveyard. His mother would be proud that James learned to hold his tongue decades before he had ever been reprimanded by her.

The ghost was perched on an otherwise nondescript square tombstone. His hat, leaning at a precise angle, was jauntily placed on his head; his sharply trimmed ended in a defined point just below Hinkley's chin. James stopped himself before he made a sly joke about the mustache that was styled in an artistic curl.

"Sir Elihu," Carina said, standing a few paces in front of the tombstone that Hinkley sat on.

"Hmmm." Hinkley's beady eyes examined James and Carina. "It hath been decades since I last entertained visitors." Hinkley's voice was a startlingly high squeak.

"See the thing is," James said, "you live in a spooky graveyard. So it's difficult to find you."

"The hour at which thou hast waited upon interminable amounts of dunderheads wanting to use thy knowledge for their own selfish gain then I shall taketh your opinion under consideration," Hinkley retorted. "Until that day, I doth not care for your opinions on the setting in which I keepeth myself."

There was a pause during which Carina tried to murder James with her eyes.

"What is it you two art searching for?" Hinkley continued, displeasure making his voice higher. "Mine own hard won secrets of traveling through the mysteries of time? How to wend back three hours so thee can miss an egregious mistake? My words of wisdom? Tell me now so I may answer quickly and return to mine gentle solitude."

"Sir Elihu, we have already traveled back in time. We are wondering how to not disrupt the strands of time so we can return to an unaltered future," Carina said.

"Thou are not delivering lies?" Hinkley looked deeply suspicious.

"No, sir," Carina assured him, eyes narrowing in frustration. "We are not here of our own accord. A mistake happened, which sent us back here."

"How intriguing," Hinkley squeaked. "I didst not know one could mistakenly accomplish what I hadst spent decades of my life trying to do."

"We just have two questions, Sir Elihu," James said. Carina was too dignified to ever beg a silly and squeaking man, but James was perfectly capable of setting aside his pride. "How do we not change the future, and how to get back? I promise when we return to 2028 we will praise you and tell everyone you helped us. We will even try to unburn your books."

"Tis disgraceful that my books were burnt," Hinkley agreed, his pale fingers twirling the end of his mustache. "But I am under no obligation to help silly youth who hath happened to fall through time. I hope you are capable of reading and doing immense amounts of research. I am sure solving the problem on thy own shall be more fulfilling than an easy answer from myself."

James was tempted to explain that none of this idiotic time traveling crisis had been fulfilling, but Hinkley had already begun to float away.

"Please, Sir!" Carina's pleading voice shocked both James and Hinkley.

Hinkley paused and twirled his mustache again. "What were thou names again?"

"Carina Black and James Potter," James said.

Hinkley's narrowed, beady eyes flitted between James and Carina. "Thou traveled through time?"

"Yes, Sir," Carina answered readily, "we are from 2028."

"How fascinating," Hinkley said slowly, as if he were analyzing a beetle that had grown an extra leg. "I suppose it would not hurt me to provideth you with answers."

James's whole body relaxed as utter relief coursed through him.

"Thank you, Sir Elihu. That is very kind," Carina said.

"You cannot be in a time foreign to thine own for more than thirteen days, thirteen hours, thirteen minutes, and thirteen seconds," Hinkley lectured. "Your presence in this day assures that the future exists. But as thou art a foreign entity, you still disrupt the timeline. The way magic interprets this dilemma is by waging war on thy bodies and thy souls. The effects are largely unnoticeable until the twelfth day, but by yond time you are bedridden with immense pain. By thirteen days, thirteen hours, thirteen minutes, and thirteen seconds you hast ceased to exist."

"So how do we return to our time?" Carina inquired steadily, only a twitch belying that she was upset by the news of her impending death.

Hinkley cackled, the horrid sound causing both Carina and James to tense. "I cannot taketh away all your enjoyment of research, Miss Black. And I will enjoy the knowledge that a descendant of your dreadfully bigoted House is facing the knowledge of nigh certain death. Giveth mine greetings to Betelgeuse Black when you see that demon in the deepest circles of hell!"

Hinkley floated away, leaving James more uneasy than a night of drinking had ever made him feel.

"I hope you have reconciled yourself to an eternity of thankless misery you toad of a pathetic human being!" Carina shrieked, grabbing James's hand in a furious hold. She was trembling with pure hatred, shaking as if she could maim Hinkley with rage alone. "You, Elihu Hinkley, are nothing more than an ugly leech on the devil's backside! We are leaving, James, I will not allow that impertinent maggot to be the one who informs me of my death! I can uncode the mysteries of time without the help of some brainless scum-bucket!"

_Sweet Godric Gryffindor. _

James found himself lurching through space, the familiar sensation of Apparating startling when Carina suddenly performed Side-Along Apparation.

"Merlin and Morgana, Carina!" James snapped, stumbling on the ground after Carina had roughly Side-Apparated them to a narrow cobblestone street in what James supposed was an old part of London. It was early evening by now, but the dark and threatening clouds in the sky made it feel much later. "Give some warning next time you decide to forcibly Apparate me around England."

Carina didn't deign to respond. She started stomping down the street, or rather as close to stomping as someone who had mastered the art of gliding could come. James regained balance to follow her, unwilling to be abandoned by the only tenuous link to his future.

"What are we doing?" James demanded as Carina disappeared into a narrow alleyway.

"We are paying a visit to my uncle," Carina said.

"Do you think he'll be amenable to letting us stay there till we, uh, die in thirteen days?"

"I have no idea what he will think. And don't be ridiculous. I am not going to let us die."

James wanted to believe Carina. If anyone was going to find a way to travel forward, it would be someone who had once literally lived in the Hogwarts library. But James still couldn't ignore Hinkley's dire warnings.

Instead of questioning Carina on how certain she was on their likelihood of _not_ dying, James asked, "do you know where your uncle lives?"

"Gwenllian said 12 Marbough Street, which is a neighborhood for the wizarding community in London. I believe it is near, so follow me."

James obliged, following Carina out of the small alley. The winding streets of London, lined with uneven cobblestones, were clouded in a fog so thick it threatened to swallow James. Carina too was disoriented by the blinding fog, often retracing her steps as they tried to find her Uncle's townhouse.

"James, could you knock?" Carina asked when, tired and hungry, they finally arrived at a handsome mahogany door on Marbough Street that was adorned with an intricate gold 12.

"Do your hands suddenly not work?" James said, although immediately after the words left his mouth he regretted them. Beyond what his mother termed his 'natural tendency to say stupid things,' he had no good reason to be sassing Carina.

"No," Carina said, a hard, unapologetic edge to her voice. "I am a bit nervous to see my uncle, who was disowned from the family when I was ten."

"Sorry," James said immediately.

James faced the door. All he wanted was a strong hug from his family and some of his Grandmum's treacle tart, but James suspected that something else lay beyond the door.

James raised his right hand and rapped three times on the wooden door.

Carina and James waited in tense apprehension, a quiet moment feeling interminably long when no one answered the door.

"Why did you not use the door-knocker?" Carina asked, breaking the silence.

"If you have a better way of knocking, go ahead," James said.

Carina folded her arms and glowered at the door as if it were her nemesis. "Fine." She slowly reached to grasp the delicately wrought gold door-knocker but, in a testament to James's skill at knocking on doors, the mahogany door opened.

Carina froze, hand outstretched. "Hello, Uncle Phineas, I hope this is not an inconvenient time."

"Carina." A deep refined voice flooded James's ears as the door swung open so James could see the speaker. "I confess, this is an unexpected visit."

The man was definitely a Black, his high cheekbones and glossy black hair were testaments to that, even if the strongest resemblance between Phineas and Carina was their rich drawl, both speaking as if they were born to grace the world with crisp syllables and sultry vowels.

"I am in a bit of an tangled situation. I was hoping I could at least stay the night with you to recoup my senses." Carina gestured at James, "this is James . . . Evans . . . my . . . acquaintance."

"Come in," Phineas invited graciously. "Carina, it has been too long."

Carina smiled, dipping her head into a grateful nod. "Thank you, Uncle."

James and Carina entered a tastefully decorated foyer. And suddenly found themselves at wand point.

"Forgive me for my rudeness," Phineas said, not an inkling of genuine apology in his strong tone. "But I must be certain. How did you find me?"

Carina raised an eyebrow delicately at Uncle Phineas. "Do not apologize for being careful. Gwenllian Fenwick provided the address, "

Phineas still kept his wand ready. "Carina, what did I tell you the last time I saw you?"

"You recommended _Lacuille's Treatise on the Nature of the Magical Soul_ to me in Flourish & Blott's before I started my Sixth Year at Hogwarts." Carina shifted slightly, her hand moving infinitesimally closer to where her own wand was stored. "What had happened the day we saw each other at Flourish & Blott's?"

"Hector Fawley was elected Minister for Magic." Phineas responded, causing Carina to nod.

It had been a long day, but James's brain was still running well enough for him to realize that Carina had said they landed in Hector Fawley's study when they arrived in 1931. Why had they been in the Minister for Magic's study, of all places?

A smile crept onto Phineas's handsome face as he lowered his wand. "It is lovely to see you, Carina. Should we discuss what led to your precipitous arrival on my doorstep in my study? Perhaps you would welcome a cup of tea, as well?"

"What are we telling him?" James hissed quietly as Phineas led them to a different room.

"I was thinking . . ." Carina began, but with a piercing shriek her composure shattered, and with it their chance at plan.

James stood, stunned, as Carina Black clung to and weeped over a teenage boy, they boy's gangly body bending like a sapling under the strength of Carina's embrace.

"Carina?" The boy, looking shell-shocked, flung his arms around Carina.

"Marius, my sweet boy, I thought I would never see you again," Carina sobbed, still clutching to him.

James hovered uncomfortably in the foyer, not wanting to distract Carina but feeling adrift in the home of these strangers, who were dead in his time.

"Let us allow them their reunion, Mr. James Evans, if you will follow me into the kitchen," Phineas ordered.

James actually would have preferred to remain with Carina, but he thought Carina would like privacy, so he obediently followed Phineas into the kitchen. Once James smelled the extraordinary scents wafting through the kitchen he was glad he had followed Phineas into the spacious, if cluttered, kitchen. The stove was littered with pots and pans while a counter was covered with flour, thin dough, and ground meat.

Watching over the collection, like the proud ruler of a kingdom, was a stocky man who turned from his position of peering into a pot to examine Phineas and James with a sharply analytical gaze.

"I ignored the scream because I didn't want the scallion pancakes to burn," the man said in an unwavering American accent. "Priorities are important, you know."

"I know," Phineas agreed, the edges of his mouth almost pulling into an smile as he looked at the apron-clad man. "Henry, this is James Evans. Mr. Evans is accompanying my missing niece, Carina."

"Great to meet you," James said, extending his hand and hoping that shaking hands was also good manners in 1931.

Henry, acting as if strangers and missing nieces were perfectly normal, firmly shook James's hand. "I hope you are planning on staying for dinner, I always overestimate when I make pickle fish stew."

Whatever welcoming and hospitable manner Phineas lacked, Henry made up for by being warm and affable. James mentally bestowed him with the dubious award of being the best person he had encountered so far in 1931.

But even Henry's friendliness could not overcome Phineas's icy suspicion, which James realized when Phineas coldly asked, "how do you know Carina?"

"We are companions thrown together by chance, acquaintances on this wild and preposterous journey that is life. Perhaps we are even on an obstacle-ridden path towards friendship."

Unsurprisingly, Phineas was unimpressed by James's answer. "How do you know Carina?" He repeated, and James would swear till his dying day, which might be concerningly soon, that Phineas's hand twitched to where his wand was stowed.

"My father's god-father knows Carina. We met and then accidentally landed in the Leaky Cauldron, and then had to make a few stops before we ended up on your doorstep, which is very nice by the way. That decorated 12 is a nice touch."

"Isn't it?" Henry agreed while Phineas made a sound that James would best describe as a growl.

"Carina is leaps and bounds ahead of me in terms of eloquence, so let's save the explanations for her," James said, attempting to mollify Phineas, who frowned at James.

"I hope you like my scallion pancakes," Henry contributed. "You're staying for dinner, aren't you?"

"I guess so," James shrugged, "we don't have any plans."

Phineas crossed his arms, still regarding James's suspiciously. "So what were doing before you showed up on our doorstep?"

"We were in Hogsmeade actually. I happen to be very fond of Honeyduke's, and butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks can't be missed."

"Why were you in Hogsmeade?"

"I just told you. The butterbeer is exceptional." The good news was that James would gladly launch into a dialogue about how delectable butterbeer from the Three Broomsticks was. The bad news was that he didn't think Phineas Black would be open to listening.

"Really, Uncle Phineas, are you this inhospitable to everyone, or just to James?" Carina's smooth voice relieved James of a minuscule amount of anxiety. She was in the doorway, standing close to Marius, who had the same silver eyes, gleaming hair, and aristocratic nose as Carina. Both of them were composed, but did not bother hiding their red-tinted eyes, the obvious remnant of crying.

"Just to strangers," Phineas said.

"I trust James," Carina replied, stepping into the warm light of kitchen.

"You do?" Phineas and James asked, both surprised.

"You have not given me a reason to distrust you," Carina said to James.

Perhaps they remembered James angrily yelling about Carina being an evil murderer differently.

Carina's gaze alighted upon Henry, who was still standing in front of the stove. "Might you introduce us, Uncle Phineas?"

"Carina, this is my friend Henry Zhang. Henry this is my long-missing niece, Carina Black."

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Zhang. It smells delightful in here. I am afraid I never had a chance to learn the delicate art of cooking."

Henry beamed. "You still have plenty of time to learn."

"James, this is my cousin Marius Black, " Carina said, tilting her head in the direction of the tall boy hovering by her shoulder.

"Great to meet you," James greeted. Marius only nodded back, his aristocratic disdain fully formed although he was only a boy.

"What a lovely family gathering," Henry exclaimed.

"Quite," Phineas said.

James wanted to sprint away from the tense atmosphere, but instead he tried to make safe conversation. "So, uh, scallion pancakes?"

Carina looked at James as if he was an idiot. James couldn't blame her.

"And pickle fish soup," Henry said. "Do either of you know Szechuan cooking?"

"Unfortunately, no," Carina said, glancing curiously at the ingredients that lay on the counter by Henry.

"You are staying for dinner?" Marius asked hopefully.

Carina smiled softly at him. "If we are invited."

"Of course you are invited! I already told James I was hoping you both would stay," Henry said.

"Thank you," Carina said.

"There is still time before dinner," Phineas cut in, causing stifling tension to return to the kitchen. "James and Carina should join me in my study for a little chat before dinner."

"I hardly think that is necessary, Uncle," Carina disagreed, looking squarely at Phineas. "I agree there are topics we need to discuss, but they can wait until after dinner, and I have agreed to game of Exploding Snap with Marius. Would you like to join us, James?"

"Fine," Phineas said, "but Carina, you understand I dislike guests evading my questions in my own home?"

"And I dislike your open hostility," Carina said flatly. Uncle and niece were staring at each other, jaws set, stubbornness clear in both their expressions. James stepped back, allowing Carina to control the situation. If James and Carina had been facing a furious Professor McGonogall, or an enraged Grandmum Weasley, James would have known how to handle the situation. But in this case, he was sure Carina knew how to navigate the stormy waters of Black family relations better than he did.

Carina spoke, her voice cold but not antagonistic. "I do acknowledge that I have been missing for three years and you must have questions. But I would appreciate a small respite before you interrogate me and James. It has been a long day."

Phineas's expression remained imposing for a moment, before softening slightly. "I already questioned you at wand point, so I suppose I can let my questions wait a few hours."

"Thank you."

Before dinner, James handily lost at Exploding Snap. During dinner conversation was stilted, but not awkward. Carina and Marius were clearly close, and had a lot to discuss, so there were never long silences. James was also able to examine Pureblood manners at play. Phineas and Marius were cold to James without being overtly rude, while Carina was a master at manipulating the conversation so James was included. James wondered if people at Weasley family gatherings felt as out of place as he did at this dinner.

After dinner Phineas had led Carina and James to his large study. It wasn't ostentatious and overdone like the study James and Carina had landed in earlier that day. Instead its touches of mahogany and tasteful furniture created an imposing, but still comfortable atmosphere, which contrasted with how ill at ease James felt. He still had no idea what they were telling Phineas. James's only option was to follow Carina's lead.

Carina evidently had a plan when she declared, "Phineas, I want you to vow you will tell no one what I tell you."

"I am not making any Unbreakable Vows, Carina," Phineas said, echoing James's thoughts.

"I am not asking for an Unbreakable Vow," Carina said calmly, "I just want your word. We stand at odds with the same people, so I find myself trusting you. "

Phineas's thoughts were inscrutable as he carefully considered Carina. James held his breath, hoping that Phineas was not going to throw them back into the maze of London streets. "Fine," Phineas said. "I will not tell anyone what we discuss in this room."

Carina glanced at James and then back at Phineas. "James and I traveled here from the future."

"Oh, so we really are telling him everything," James realized.

"I could not think of a believable lie," Carina confirmed.

Phineas was silent.

"Are you sure?" He finally queried.

"Yes, I woke up in 2028. This is 1931."

"Carina that is impossible. You look exactly the same."

"Grandfather trapped me in a portrait for one hundred years," Carina said.

"Are you sure?" Phineas repeated, looking worried for Carina's sanity.

"You should start at the beginning," James said. "Start at being trapped in the portrait."

Eyes flitting between anxious James and concerned Phineas, Carina paused, motionless as she considered James's suggestion. She finally nodded, breaking the tense moment. In the next ten minutes Carina briefly described the insanity of her life to Phineas. She finished with what Sir Elihu Hinkley had told them.

James was impressed Carina maintained her composure throughout the whole story, although it probably helped that she avoided many emotional details. Her voice only trembled when she asked Phineas, "Uncle, could you please allow James and me to stay here so we can avert dying?"

"Of course, I can do that, Carina. I will think of other ways I can help you too. I certainly do not want you and Mr. Potter to slowly and excruciatingly die."

"Thank you," Carina said.

"Carina, you can take our guest bedroom. Mr. Potter, I assume you will be happy on the couch. It has obviously been an exhausting day for both of you. I suggest going to sleep early so that you will be refreshed tomorrow, and ready to do what we can to save you both."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

**AN: I'll update again this weekend.**


	9. Chapter 9

Contrary to Phineas's suggestion of resting well, neither James nor Carina slept much. James, unable to make his anxious mind calm down, slept fitfully. He woke up from a light slumber to find Carina curled in an armchair across from him, using a dim Lumos Charm to read one of the books she had copied from the Hogwarts library.

James said something unintelligible, his words slurred from sleep.

"Did I wake you?" Carina whispered.

"Er. . . ."

"I had nightmares so I came down here," she said.

It took a few minutes for James to manage to sit up from the couch.

Carina giggled. "Your hair is ridiculous."

James groaned and rubbed his eyes. "It's illegal to insult someone at this time of the night."

Carina giggled again. The functioning part of James's brain noted that Carina's giggle was a marvelous sound.

James pushed down on the wild strands, trying to flatten his hair, though it was futile. "It's just like that. There's nothing I can do about it."

"Your hair is sticking straight up."

James mock-glared at Carina. "Some of us don't have perfect hair." Carina's long hair was loosely tied in a low pony tail, but it still looked soft, tempting James to touch it.

"I think I am going to cut it off when we get back to 2028," Carina announced. "I want something different. I have maintained this hairstyle for over one hundred years."

"Merlin and Morgana, you're old," James said without thinking. "Shite, I'm sorry. That was rude. It wasn't meant to be an insult. You certainly don't look 119."

Carina laughed. "I did not expect to live this long." She abruptly sobered, her expression now serious as she glanced at the large book she was holding. "I really hope we can return to 2028." She bit her lip. "I thought I had a chance to build my own life, but now I am back here."

"We'll get back," James said with faux-confidence, because both he and Carina needed to hear the positive sentiment. "You're brilliant and I'm brilliant. Everything will be fine."

"I am so scared, James," Carina said softly.

"Me too." James was amazed that Carina, who put up such a strong facade, would admit her fear. James was certain that in the daylight she would never allow herself to be vulnerable. But in the depths of the night barriers fell and feelings were exposed. The bleak silence of the house begged to be filled by tremulous vulnerabilities.

"What will you do first if we get back?" Carina asked.

"Uh." James thought deeply for a moment. "Check on my cat."

"You have a cat?"

"Yes, I do," James confirmed proudly. "She's a recent partner in crime, from Peru. I named her Leopoldina Smethwyck, but she responds better to Polly."

"Leopoldina Smethwyck?"

"Smethwyck is only one of the greatest Quidditch players ever!" James said. "Except my Mum is better, of course."

"So the first thing you will do if we do not die is make sure your new cat, who is named after a Quidditch player who is not quite as good as your Mum, is healthy?" Carina asked, a deliciously teasing smirk on her lips.

"I'll probably also get drunk," James admitted. "So I can try and forget all this bullshit."

"Understandable," Carina said frankly. "I hate being here too, though I am glad that I get to see Marius and Phineas while we are here."

"Why does Marius live with Phineas?" James asked.

Curling up deeper into her plush armchair, Carina frowned. "My Uncle Cygnus deserves to burn in hell." Carina then explained the events of her Hogwarts graduation, when her Uncle Cygnus, who was Marius's father, had broken into the Headmaster's Study and found the Book of Enrollment, which confirmed that nine year old Marius was a Squib. Marius had been disowned that day, but only now had Carina learned that Phineas had been taking care of Marius ever since.

"Phineas told me that Gwenllian knows their address because Marius still has to take a painkilling potion for the chronic pain in his arm that Uncle Cygnus caused," Carina explained bitterly.

"Goddamn," James muttered. Carina nodded miserably. James ached to reach out and comfort Carina, to hug her into his chest and tell her that everything would be okay, but instead he fiddled with his blanket.

In an effort to lighten the mood James started telling stories about the escapades he and his cousins pulled off at Hogwarts.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

James did not realize both he and Carina fell asleep until Henry woke them up.

"Good morning," Henry said. "I am going to start making breakfast."

At breakfast James was again grateful for the presence of Henry Zhang. Henry had the dual ability to make a delicious breakfast and make James feel comfortable in the company of the Black family.

Henry also made strong tea, which was necessary for James's sluggish brain.

As everyone was finishing breakfast, James was surprised when someone knocked at the door, momentarily wondering if he had imagined the sound.

As Henry went to answer the door, Phineas, looking serious, turned to James and Carina. "I invited a colleague here who I believe can help your predicament. Of course, we will not tell this colleague all the details, but I think he will be useful."

"I wish you had consulted us," Carina snapped, clenching her tea mug. "Who is it, and how do you he won't recognize me?"

"I assume Phineas Nigellus Obliviated him," Phineas said, his calm demeanor and well-rested air unreasonably annoying to James. "And this colleague is one of the few people I trust."

Henry reentered the kitchen, someone trailing behind him. Aghast, James realized the newcomer was Miles Bickford-Smith. James had thought, had hoped, that they would not see Miles again.

Carina shot out of her chair, glancing between Miles and Phineas. "You two know each other? How?"

"You invited me here for _her_?" Miles growled, pausing in the doorway.

"Merlin's saggy Y-fronts, this a mess," James groaned. "I am too fucking tired for this."

"You know Mr. Bickford-Smith?" Phineas asked, shocked. "Mr. Bickford-Smith, you remember Carina?" Phineas frowned when his eyes alighted on the bewildered expression of Marius. "Let's discuss this in my office."

"What is going on?" Miles demanded once Phineas, Carina, Miles, and James shuffled into Phineas's study.

"I have the same question!" Carina said, glaring at Phineas.

"I wrongly assumed Miles would not recognize you," Phineas said, alluding to how Carina's grandfather had Obliviated many people. "Why did you not mention it to me?"

"I did not realize Miles would be showing up at breakfast!" Carina snarled, fury clear in her burning eyes and defensive posture. "How do you two know each other?"

"I am a trustee for an American newspaper," Phineas said. "It is how I met both Miles and Henry. I believe Miles could help us track down some key missing details. He has excellent instincts."

Carina glared at Phineas. "So you already told Miles about our . . . situation."

"Yes, but only the brief overview."

Carina closed her eyes for a moment before turning to James. "Could I speak with you in the hallway for a moment, James?"

"Sure," James agreed, confused.

Once they stepped outside the study Carina firmly shut the door and cast a few charms so they could not be overheard.

"I have decided that I will channel my fear into motivation," she said. "I will make sure we return to 2028. We have no other option."

"Okay," James agreed. Carina looked so earnest that James found himself trusting her.

"To that end, I believe Miles could be useful," Carina said, making James grimace in response.

"Are you sure? He seems both volatile and in love with you," he countered.

"That is why I want you and Miles to work together."

"Ummm. . . ." James did not like this plan.

"You two can find information on the pendant, which is important as it brought us here. Meanwhile I will do research on time travel. I think it is the best division of our labor."

"Fine." James hated that Carina's plan made sense.

"Thank you," Carina said, her smile making James's worries melt away. "Miles is probably easier to work with when he is not trying to convince you to elope with him because he is infatuated with idea of you."

"He could fall in love with me too, you know," James insisted, "I'm pretty handsome."

Carina bit back a smirk. "Yes, but nevertheless I do not imagine Miles will try to marry you." Her voice lowered. "But actually, do you think Henry and Phineas are together, romantically?"

"That is the conclusion I came to as well," James agreed, remembering the shared glances and light touches he had seen Phineas and Henry share. "That must be difficult for them, since the 1930s are probably bigoted as hell. Even when Al and Scorpius announced they were getting married someone wrote a letter to the editor in _The Daily Prophet_ about how they were flaunting their gay lifestyle." James understood journalism was important, but he despised tabloid fodder and he couldn't stand bigots.

"Someone wrote a letter to the editor about that? How horrible. It is none of their business."

"I know! Look, we're already thinking alike. We make a great team."

Carina solemnly held James's gaze. "We will get home, I promise, James."

"I believe you," James said.

"Do you believe in free will?" Carina asked.

"What?" James asked, thrown by the subject change.

"Do you believe in free will?"

James thought for a moment. "I don't know. I used to believe in free will, but being here makes me wonder if our futures are already set." Being sent back in time, and knowing the future until 2028, made him seriously question the existence of free will. But the prospect of not having any power over his future made James feel anxious and uncomfortable. Was his very action and thought predestined? Was their failure or success in returning to 2028 set in stone?

"I believe," Carina mused. "I believe that we are given choices, but we decide how to respond to them. I have the autonomy to deal with this horrible event, and the will to return us to 2028. We will get back," she insisted.

"Carina, I trust you," James confided. He did, in fact, trust Carina, partly because he genuinely admired her tenacity, and partly because James had no other option but to trust her. "We'll get back to 2028."

They stood in silence until James tilted his head at the study door. "Should we go deal with the Miles bullshit, then?"

Carina nodded tersely, reopening the door.

James and Carina were confronted with a confused Phineas. "Why does Miles think you and James are married?" He asked.

"That was a lie." Carina said. She was not intimidated by Miles towering over her, and defiantly tilted her chin up.

"Why?" Spat Miles. He was flushed, but James didn't know if that was caused by anger or embarrassment.

"At the time we had better things to do than explain our complicated circumstances to you," Carina said coolly. "And it is the conclusion you jumped to."

Phineas crossed his arms. "I do not tolerate liars."

Carina met his eyes. "James and I are not liars, Uncle. Everything we have told you is the truth. James and I have also decided to allow Miles to help us. He and James will work together to find information on a certain cursed pendant while I do research here."

"Evans and I will be working together?" Miles asked, not pleased with the plan.

"Yes," James confirmed, already losing patience with Miles.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

James soon realized that Miles was a pain in the arse.

However, Miles was also exceedingly good at his job. Miles had actually been in the Leaky Cauldron the day before to interview someone for an article.

Miles was so competent that by midday they had a list of fine jewel sellers, and advanced alchemists in England to interview. They also had noted people in England with highly advanced runic-knowledge.

Now they were in a small town in Devon, looking for the first person on their list, an alchemist.

"What's our plan for interviewing this alchemist?" James asked Miles.

"Just follow my lead and be quiet," Miles ordered dismissively.

It was the last slight James could take after holding his tongue and restraining his temper for the past hours. "Can you cut the crap?" James growled. "I know you don't give a rat's arse about me, but I know you care for Carina. We have to work together so we can stop her from fucking dying."

Miles drew his wand. "What is Carina to you?"

"Are you jealous?" James asked incredulously. "Stop being a fucking caveman. Carina and I are just trying to _not_ die!"

"Why did you lie to me that you were married?"

"You're still on that shite?" James cried. "You leapt to that conclusion!"

"Do you know," snarled Miles as he clenched his fists, practically stomping his foot on the ground in indignation. "Do you know how much it bloody hurt to believe she had dismissed a relationship with me because her family would never accept me, only to run into the arms of some fucking nobody I'd never even met?"

"We both know Carina has a mind of her own. If she didn't want you, I'm sure she had good reasons," James said.

It was evidently the wrong thing to say. Miles grew more incensed and tried to hit James with a Knee-Reversal Hex.

"Will you stop being so fucking idiotic!" James exclaimed. "I don't want any part of your problems with Carina!"

Miles, in a fighting stance, sent another hex barrelling towards him. James twisted out of the way of the hex, not bothering to put up a Shield Charm, and instead casting a host of jinxes and hexes at Miles

Their duel was quick, like an exploding firework. Miles was good, but James was better, his instincts sharp from years of dueling practice, Quidditch, and curse-breaking.

Once James had disarmed Miles he returned his wand. "You're very irritating," James said, struggling to control his temper. "But you're good at investigating, so can we fucking investigate?"

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

**AN: I basically had a magical week in which a bunch of fics I'm following all updated. And, as promised, here is an update for all of my wonderful readers. **

**I also have a snippet from the next chapter:**

[ Something behind James caught Carina's attention, her wide eyes causing James to swing around, instinctively casting a Shield Charm. James was glad he did so when a Stunning Spell slammed into his magical protection.]

**Please review and tell me what you think! Reviews make me gloriously happy (and they also motivate me to write!)**

**Lots of love, petitecanard**


	10. Chapter 10

After an exhausting day, James found Carina sitting on the living room floor, surrounded by open books and scribbled notes.

"Miles is so annoying! He's excellent at his job, but a real pain in the arse." James complained. "We wasted time dueling today!"

"What? Why?" Carina looked up from her notes. Her long hair was loosely braided, but a few dark locks, like strands of silk, had come loose and were tucked behind her ears.

James, facing Carina, sat down on the couch. "I think it was because of you."

_"What?"_

"Well I think Miles was dueling because of you, and I was dueling to make him stop being a fucking idiot. He's very irrational."

Carina rolled her eyes, eyelashes fluttering. "Of course he is irrational. He is a Gryffindor."

James frowned at her scathing tone. "I'm a Gryffindor."

"I know," Carina considered him carefully, "but your siblings are both Slytherins. They must have had a good influence on you."

James snorted. "You mean the idiots who put ladybugs in my bed when I was eight? I doubt it."

"I am serious," Carina insisted. "You are neither brash nor hot-headed."

"Gryffindors are actually chivalrous and brave," James said, compelled by pride to defend his House.

"I suppose you also have those qualities," Carina agreed.

"Thank you," James said, genuinely pleased by the compliment.

"Who won the duel?"

Still high on victory, James allowed himself a smug grin. "I did."

"Really?" Carina tilted her head sideways, inspecting James.

"You don't believe me?" James shouldn't care if Carina thought he was some witless dunderhead, but it was still disappointing.

"I am impressed," Carina admitted. "Miles is a good duelist. At Hogwarts he honed his skills by picking fights with Slytherins."

"Well, my dad is a good teacher," James said, "and also paranoid, from that whole fighting for his life against Voldemort thing he did. I've been receiving dueling lessons from Dad and my Aunt Hermione since I got my wand."

"Hmmm. So you are good at dueling?" Carina said, eyes scanning James.

"I can hold my own."

"What is your dueling weakness?"

If James was smart he would flatly refuse to answer Carina's question, but he couldn't stop himself from saying, "you have to promise to tell me your weakness too."

"Smart," Carina appreciated. "A weakness for a weakness. I will tell you mine, so we become a stronger team."

They sat in silence until James raised an eyebrow. "Well?"

Carina smirked. "I have agreed to your proposition, but you still have to tell me first."

"Alright," James sucked in a breath before revealing why Aunt Hermione would berate him during dueling practice. "My spells are powerful but I rely too heavily on a certain subset of them rather than a large repertoire."

Carina nodded in understanding.

"So," James prodded, "what about yours?"

"Duel me and find out," she challenged.

James looked around at their delicate surroundings, the perfectly placed furniture, the delicate vase of flowers, the carefully hung curtains. Everything in the living room would be ruined by even the breath of a duel. "You've got to be kidding. Here in the living room?"

Carina laughed lightly. "Not here! In the piece of lawn behind this house, with proper protection spells."

James didn't respond at first, still deciding if he wanted to agree to this duel, and not knowing how friendly and harmless a duel with Carina would be.

"Scared, Potter?" Carina taunted, silver eyes flashing.

"Of you?" James scoffed, but then relented. "Just a little bit. Let's give it a try then."

Minutes later, as Carina put protection charms around the small piece of garden that belonged to Phineas and Henry, James wondered what he had agreed to.

"Rules?" She asked.

"Standard Wizards' Duel Rules," James said. "Nothing too dangerous that we can't heal ourselves."

"Too dangerous?"

"It would be counterintuitive to our plans of getting home if we harmed each other in a Wizards' Duel," James reasoned.

"You are correct," Carina agreed. "I have warded the lawn properly, so shall we begin?"

James and Carina took their positions facing each other. "Are you sure this isn't your plan to get rid of me?" James asked.

"I have not killed you yet, so why would I now?"

"That makes me feel so much better, thank you," James joked.

"You are not useless." Carina said, "and we make a good team. Now your aim is to find my dueling weakness."

"You have an advantage," James protested. "You already know my weakness."

Carina was unrepentant. "You freely told me."

James sighed. Carina was right. "Let's just get this over with," he called, even as his body thrummed with adrenaline.

They bowed to each other, the duel soon starting as intensely as catching fire. James was good at dueling, and in non-dangerous settings like this he enjoyed dueling. All sense of time slipped away as magic flowed around them, dangerous hexes flying by James's head and sneaky jinxes just missing Carina's arms. The adrenaline and focus were so intoxicating that James became numb to everything else.

Carina, too, evidently felt the joy of focusing on nothing but magic. Her spells were imaginative, taking James by surprise, while her movements were lithe, as if she were dancing. Carina was beautiful and exhilarating, the competitive arch of her eyebrow making James desperate to win even as the delicate grace of her body distracted him from his spell-casting.

James and Carina were evenly matched. Sometimes James would gain the upper-hand, but soon Carina would fire an unknown spell, forcing James to become defensive.

They had been dueling for long enough that James could feel exhaustion creeping into his limbs, his breath becoming uneven. Carina was still grinning freely as she snapped a Shield Charm in front of a Bat-Bogey Hex James sent her way.

Carina responded to James's hex with a quick volley of jinxes, making James leap away from them and lose balance. She smirked, but James was able to recover and make her stumble with a quick Tripping Jinx.

"You are good," Carina admitted breathlessly.

James dodged a spell he did not recognize. "So are you."

"I know," Carina said, brushing tendrils of dark hair out of her face.

James realized he needed to become more offensive, so he used a quick succession of spells to make Carina throw up her shield. James slowly stepped towards Carina so she had less and less time to react to his spells.

"But your weakness is that you don't dodge quickly enough," James panted, "causing you to rely too heavily on your Shield Charm. While your Shielding is exceptional, it's not what wins duels." A last Expelliarmus landed on Carina. James held his hand out, ready to catch her wand.

With a gesture of Carina's hand and a shouted incantation James fell to the ground, the victim of a wandless Tripping Jinx.

"Shite, I forgot you can do wandless magic," James swore, disappointed with himself, bum and ego aching from the fall.

"You are correct about my Shield Charm, but you should not underestimate me," Carina said, using James's distraction to retrieve her wand from the ground beside him. She pointed it at him. "Do you yield?"

James hooked his foot around Carina's ankle and used his leverage to make her stumble to the ground beside him. He scrambled up and pointed his wand at Carina, who was now sprawled on the grass. A slashing Expelliarmus caused her wand to fly into James's hand. "Do you yield?"

"Muggle tactics," Carina propped herself up on her elbows, "_fascinating_."

"My cousins play rough when it comes to dueling. I had to pick up some unorthodox strategies," James explained. "Do you yield?"

"I do not think I have a choice," Carina mused. "I yield."

Something behind James caught Carina's attention, her wide eyes causing James to swing around, instinctively casting a Shield Charm. James was glad he did so when a Stunning Spell slammed into his magical protection.

Miles, his wand raised, was striding towards them.

James swore, "what the hell?"

"Why were you attacking her?" Miles demanded, expression twisted with anger.

"You do not have to protect me," Carina snapped, fierce even while lying on the ground.

"We were practicing our dueling," James said.

James turned to Carina and offered his hand to her. She grasped it so James could pull her up. "You didn't hit your head when you fell did you?" James asked, worried, as he handed back her wand. James had caused her to fall with out thinking, and he was now concerned Carina could be actually hurt.

"No, I am fine," Carina assured before facing Miles, placing her hands on her hips. "You are ridiculous."

Miles's face was flushed with anger. "What were you doing?"

"Assessing each other's strengths and weaknesses," Carina said.

"And?" Miles asked.

"James is excellent at dueling," Carina said. "Which you already know, since you two dueled today."

"And his weakness?" Miles asked, only a twitch revealing that he was upset James had told Carina about their duel.

"Why would I tell you that?" Carina sneered, her expression bordering on cruel. She brushed dirt off her robes, then strode towards the house.

"Why are you here anyways?" James asked, hoping he did not sound too antagonistic.

Miles narrowed his eyes at James. "There are some inconsistencies in your story that I wanted to discuss with Mr. Black."

Carina and James had not informed Miles of their time-traveling problem. Miles had only been told that James and Carina had been cursed by a pendant, and were trying to lift the curse. Their lies could have been better crafted, so Miles had every reason to be confused by the gaps in their tale.

"And are you satisfied now?" James questioned, trying not to be riled by the fiery man in front of him.

"No," Miles said, but didn't reveal anymore.

"Great." James said. Trying to end the conversation, James walked towards the house. Miles followed him quietly.

James breathed a sigh of relief after Miles said goodbye to Phineas. An evening respite from Miles was more than welcome.

Carina, now wearing a fresh set of robes, was in the living room, once again studying her notes. "Miles is a nut," he declared.

Carina clenched her hand around her quill. "I know. He is being so frustrating," she took deep breath, "but I do know that Miles is trustworthy, despite his faults."

"Why do you still think he is trustworthy when he's attacked me twice now?" James asked angrily.

Carina looked up at James. "Miles is certainly easy to anger. But I also know he will not betray me. I actually fancied him quite a lot once," she revealed.

"Really?" James asked. He had spent some time trying to untangle what he knew about Miles and Carina's relationship.

Carina nodded, avoiding James's demanding gaze. "We saw each other frequently because we were Head Boy and Girl. It's been a century for me, so I am obviously quite unenamored with him now. But at the time it flattered my ego for someone who was not associated with pureblood politics to be interested in me. And he thought he was saving a helpless damsel in distress. It was stupid and unhealthy. Also, I got engaged."

"You were engaged?" James was shocked. "But you're too young to get _engaged. _Merlin, your life is so mysterious."

Carina's open expression transformed into a cold sneer. "It is not mysterious that my father tried to arrange a marriage between me and Robert Fawley."

"Merlin's balls," James said. It was not, perhaps, the most appropriate reaction. But it was the only reaction James had for the knowledge that arranged marriages had actually happened.

"I was planning on drowning Robert during our honeymoon. Needless to say, it did not happen."

James was shocked by this new information and did not immediately reply. It was difficult for him to balance the Carina who laughed at his stories with the icy and vicious Carina he was sometimes confronted with.

Carina's demeanor was cold as she laughed chillingly. "Are you horrified?"

"No!" James said emphatically, and was shocked when he realized he was telling the truth. He was not horrified by Carina. He was disgusted with the life she had been born into.

A sly smile twisted Carina's features. "Or do you pity me? Because that is far worse."

"No!" James repeated. "There is a difference between pity and compassion, Carina."

"I suppose there is," Carina murmured, looking unconvinced.

This emotionally fraught encounter exhausted James, so he excused himself to clean up after the duel. Afterwards, he lay on the couch, consumed by his thoughts.

James had always wanted his own adventure, especially since he grew up in the shadows of the heroes in his own family. But this adventure was bullshit. He wasn't riding on the back of a dragon, breaking into the Ministry, or fighting against pureblood supremacists. James was just trying to not die when the only thing he wanted to do was hug his mum.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Tears were trickling down James's face when Carina walked into the living room.

Midnight was long gone, and the room was clad in deep shadows, the only light from a single, dim lamp in the corner of the living room.

The cushions on the couch shifted when Carina sat down next to James.

"Here," she said, handing him a crisp white handkerchief, her voice tentative. "I could not fall asleep either."

James, remaining silent, rubbed his eyes with the handkerchief. He was sure Carina had her own grief to bear. It would be selfish to add his to her burden.

When all of James's tears were mopped up, and the handkerchief was damp, Carina spoke again. "What is all of this?" She gestured at the assorted items on the low table next to the couch.

"Um," James rubbed his eyes, "it's just more of the stuff I had in my pockets."

"You had all that in your pockets?"

"Yeah, my pockets are magically enlarged. I started hiding stuff in them when I was at Hogwarts," James pointed at a small pink vial, "that's day-dream inducing potion, from _Wizards Wheezes_. Those are the decoy detonators I showed you in Orville's pub. That paper is a letter from my dad when I was in Peru—"

"Why did you go to Peru?" Carina asked, inching closer to him on the couch so she could peer at the objects on the table. Her dark hair fell between them, a thick curtain of gleaming strands. James had to remind himself that it would be rude if he reached out and felt her hair.

"Peru," he repeated, focusing the question Carina had just asked. "I went to Peru because," James ran his hand over the late-night stubble on his jawline. The time before he went to Peru had been tumultuous, and James wasn't sure how to express that. "I needed a change. I actually played Quidditch back then. I was a Chaser for Puddlemere United, but I got a really bad injury during a game because of a fall."

Playing Quidditch was all James had wanted while he was at Hogwarts. He was decent at his classes, but he poured his time into practicing Quidditch, determined to play on a professional team. His dream had materialized for a few years. But when James had played in a championship game even after falling on his shoulder, his right arm's range of motion had been irrevocably ruined. His Quidditch career had abruptly ended.

James heard Carina's murmured sympathies, but ploughed on through his story, his voice still gruff from his recent bout of crying. "I couldn't keep playing Quidditch, because my right shoulder and my back were too banged up. I also was going through a bad break-up, and I just needed something different. I applied for a curse-breaking job. A few months later I was in Peru."

"Why Peru of all places?" Carina asked, brushing her hair behind her ear and turning to face James, her pale face sculpted by the shadows of the room.

"Because it wasn't England," James said, but Carina's questioning expression prodded James to say more. "In England I was always compared to my dad. Or I was compared to his dad, the first James Potter, especially because I was in Gryffindor like they were. But I didn't kill an evil wizard like my dad, and I didn't die to save my wife and son, like my grandfather. I'm just me. Even while I was playing Quidditch I would be compared to my Mum. Everyone in England knows who I am and it was shitty." James, his heart pounding, couldn't stop fidgeting with his hands.

"So you left," Carina concluded softly. "Did you realize how much you can learn about yourself when you are basically alone?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I did." James was astounded Carina had realized that so quickly, when it had taken months in Peru for James to understand all he wanted was to be away from the incessant pressure of England so he could figure himself out.

"I understand," Carina said, not quite meeting James's gaze, "how stifling it is when people's expectations are based on their knowledge of your family, instead of their understanding of you."

"I suppose you would," James agreed. He leaned towards Carina, showing her the photo that was crumpled in his hand. "This is the photo I was looking for in my pockets. It was taken right before I left for Peru."

James knew the photo perfectly, from staring at it so often. And he remembered the scene vividly. It was his goodbye dinner at the Burrow, with all of his cousins. Even Andromeda, Scorpius, and Professor Longbottom had shown up. James was grinning broadly in the center of the photo, one of his arms looped around Lily, the other arm around Al.

"Why is it not moving?" Carina asked as she caressed the worn creases of the photo.

"Grandad likes Muggle cameras," James explained.

"Hmmm," Carina murmured, meeting James's eyes. She was bending over the photo, and so close to James that he could see the delicate lashes framing her stunning silver eyes. "You are fortunate to have your family."

James reexamined the photo, his chest aching as he remembered his dad's calming presence and Teddy's jokes. It wasn't luck that gave James such a wonderful family, it came at the cost of a war, at the cost of his Uncle Fred and Teddy's parents. "I love them very much," he confided.

His family was the primary reason James, who actually enjoyed curse-breaking, had returned to England from Peru. Then, mere days later, he had been torn away from his family into some god-forsaken hellscape of time.

"Veronica and her husband are in this photo," Carina realized.

"They're my closest friends outside of my family," James said. It was true that Veronica, and her husband Zeno, had been best friends with James since they all ended up in the same Care of Magical Creatures class during Third Year. Everyone at Hogwarts knew Zeno and James enjoyed the extracurricular activity of pranking, but fewer people realized quiet Veronica was often the mastermind.

James stared at Veronica's face, and was reminded of how similar Veronica was to Delphine. "Do you have any idea why Delphine died?"

"I wish I did," Carina murmured, "but the details of her death make no sense."

"I actually worked in her shop with Veronica the summer before my Seventh Year to make some money," James said.

"Veronica told me," Carina said. "You know. . . ." Her voice trailed off.

"What?"

"Veronica always speaks very highly of you, James," Carina said slowly. "And when I was in the portrait Lily would also tell me stories about you. I think that . . . I am glad I am here with you rather than with someone else."

"I would rather be playing two-a-side Quidditch with my cousins right now. But, since we are stuck here, I'm glad you're here with me."

Carina half-smiled. "I barely know how to ride a broom, but I would rather be playing Quidditch too."

"If we get back home I'll teach you," James promised earnestly. James could still play Quidditch even though his arm injury prevented him from playing professionally.

"I hope we can return." Carina looked back at the photo that she and James were both grasping. "We have to get back."

Swallowing, James tried to gulp down his fear. The looming pressure of living out his last days in search of a lost pendant with Miles Bickford-Smith made him so anxious that he had been itching to drown himself in firewhiskey. But a drunk James was not a helpful James, so he was instead consoling himself with buckets of tea.

James had been faced with danger while curse-breaking, but serious injury or death had always been inconceivable. Now death was constantly behind his shoulder, breathing down his neck and waiting until James's time was up. He hadn't been able to sleep tonight, so he had taken the photo of his family out of his pocket, which had caused all of his memories to leap into his mind and make tears run down his face.

James tore his attention away from the photo when Carina gently touched his arm. "I could not sleep because my mind keeps running over an Arithmancy equation concerning time-travel. Could you help me?" She asked, voice soft yet steady. "Then we will be one step closer to bringing you back to your family. And I know it makes me feel better to focus on something concrete, perhaps that will work for you too."

"I could try," James said. "I took Arithmancy, but I was bollocks at it."

"That is fine. I think I just need someone to talk through my ideas with."

"Show me what you've got then," James said as he carefully put the photo back into his pocket.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

**AN: happy monday here's an update and a snippet for the next chapter: **

[Carina leaned forward threateningly. "Miles, if you share that information with anyone outside of this room, I will torture you."

"Please don't torture people on my behalf," James cautioned, uncomfortable that he had to say those words aloud.]


	11. Chapter 11

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Henry again found Carina and James asleep in the living room that morning. And again, Henry made tea and breakfast for everyone. And again, Miles arrived in the middle of a peaceful breakfast.

Miles was less belligerent than he had been the previous day, only sneering slightly at James instead of outright cursing him.

James had barely finished his tea and eggs before Miles clapped a heavy hand on James's shoulder and said they had to leave.

Work that day was frustrating, the minutes climbing into agonizingly slow hours. James needed to get home, to 2028, but he had no idea how to do that. Hexes, jinxes, and curses made sense to James, but he knew nothing about the magical theory of time travel. It felt useless to search for information on the pendant. Panic threatened to drown James, even when Miles and James made headway in their task to find whoever had made the bloody pendant.

James returned, sans Miles, to Phineas's house shortly before dinner, to find both Phineas and Carina missing. Henry explained that they had ventured to Normandy, in search of a rare book dealer.

So, alone, James settled at a table and jotted down everything that he and Miles had been working on, because Miles had not deigned to give James a copy of his notes.

James had been working for a good hour before Carina and Phineas returned.

"Hello," Carina said, her hair pulled into a low pony-tail. She sat across from James and placed an ancient book on the table.

"Hullo."

Carina, noticing that James was eyeing the tome, pushed it over to him. "The book just confirms my suspicious," she said quietly, eyes downcast.

"What suspicions?"

"I think Hinkley was right, that over the course of thirteen days our bodies, magic, and souls will slowly degrade, leading to our death."

"Oh." James stabbed his pen into his notepaper. "Why . . . why do you think that?"

Sighing deeply, Carina rested her face in her hands, muffling her words. "Us being here makes sure that the future exists. But us being here also provides the opportunity for us to change the future in drastic ways, which could create a future in which we do not exist. But we have to exist because we are here. You see the paradox?"

James, wishing Carina's theory was outlandish instead of plausible, nodded, his stomach sinking.

"I have gone through all the theories and myths and Arithmancy equations. Hinkley's theory is the only one that makes sense."

"Okay. What now?" James asked. James didn't trusted Hinkley, the crack-pot ghost, but he did trust Carina.

Carina tapped her fingers on the book that lay between them. "Given that I believe we are here for thirteen days, and given that this is already our third day here, I started researching ways to get home. This book is about theories on future time-travel. I still think the pendant which brought us here may have answers on how to return. So the job you and Miles have is even more important now."

James gestured at his notes. "I'm writing down everything Miles and I have found so far. Today we met one ancient runes expert who definitely lied when we asked her questions, so we're going to follow up on that lead tomorrow."

"I suppose the best we can do is the best we can do," Carina murmured. Unspoken, but mutually understood, was the anxiety that their best just might not be good enough to avoid death.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The past two nights James had been too consumed by anxiety to sleep. Instead of sleeping he had been starin at the ceiling above him as his mind traveled between thinking about how much he missed his family and how he was doomed to die on this posh couch. Now, on this third night, James had decided that if he examined the minuscule crack in the ceiling one more time he would not die of time-travel complications; he would die of boredom.

So now James was sitting on the stone stoop that lay between Phineas's townhouse and the empty street, relaxing in the velvet twilight, the only light from two distant street lamps. For a few minutes James could relax and pretend that nothing was wrong, that he was just sitting on some random street in 2028.

The edge of the door connected with James's back and he face-planted into the street, his nose cracking.

"SHITE," James swore into the cobblestones, blood tricking from his nose.

"Sweet Salazar!"

"Fucking hell." Bringing his hand to nose, James rolled over. Carina, aghast, slammed the open door shut and hurried to James.

"Merlin, I am so sorry. Are you alright?" She asked, the words rushing out of her.

James pointed at his nose. "Could you heal it?" His voice was tightly controlled, James clenched his jaw to stop himself from screaming in pain.

Carina pressed a soft hand to his face and examined where his nose had broken. James squeezed his eyes shut, but he still felt Carina magically clean and heal his nose. With a final tap of her wand on his nose the pain faded away.

"I am so, so sorry," she apologized again, voice shaking.

"S'fine," James mumbled, opening his eyes. Now that the pain was cleared, making function possible, James carefully moved back to the stoop. Carina mirrored his actions so they were sitting side by side on the narrow step.

"Why were you sprinting out of the house?" James asked.

"Ummm. . . ."

James nudged Carina. "You broke my nose. I'm pretty sure you can tell my why."

Carina bit her lip, fidgeting with her rings. "I woke up from a nightmare and went downstairs. When I saw that you were gone, I . . . panicked. I was going to look for you."

"Oh." The syllable floated gently between them in the night air.

"What are you doing outside?" Carina asked.

James shrugged. "I couldn't sleep either. Time-travel has made me an insomniac."

"Yeah," Carina breathed out. "Me too."

The silence was companionable instead of tense. James's yearning to kiss Carina, to feel the softness of her lips, was strong and sudden, overwhelming him like the surge of a wave. Frozen in his desire, James simply stared at Carina, wondering what would happen if he leaned in, just enough so Carina could meet him half-way.

Carina paused, catching James's eye. She had to feel the heavy tension between them. Even the air was pushing them together.

"We . . . we should go to bed," she said, breaking eye contact.

"Yeah." James tore his own gaze away, looking at his feet and trying to wipe his mind of the image of him and Carina going to bed, together. "Yeah."

He stood up, taking a long breath to make the moment last even one second longer. James outstretched his hand, a frisson running through his arm when Carina grasped it, and he pulled her up.

Standing, they were still close to each other, chests almost touching. James could bend his head, kiss her lips, caress her hair. But James knew that however much the tension of the moment begged him to be a romantic sap, the only thing that mattered was returning to 2028, and kissing Carina could seriously complicate their efforts to get back home.

So James opened the door and ushered Carina inside.

Once inside they again paused, both silent. James took a slight step towards Carina, emboldened when she didn't move away. He bent down, his hand brushing her soft hair, and, not entirely aware or sure of his movement, he pressed a light kiss, not on her lips, but to the top of her head. "Goodnight, Carina," he said, stepping away from her. It took every fiber of James's tenuous self-control to escape to the living room where he slept.

"Goodnight, James," he heard Carina murmor, before soft footsteps on the staircase signaled that Carina was going upstairs.

James collapsed onto the couch, feeling bereft without Carina. James was glad that he still had a few threads of common sense, or at least enough sense to not snog Carina Black in her disowned uncle's townhouse while in 1931. Simultaneously, James was cursing himself, wondering where his Gryffindor courage had run off to, and still desperate to feel Carina under his lips.

After that evening, James noticed a shift in Carina. Usually James would think he was absolutely delusional for thinking she was flirting with him. After all, James had no idea how pureblood ladies from the 1930s flirted.

But sometimes Carina's hand would linger too long on James's arm, she would stand closer to him then she needed to, and would giggle too much over his dumb comments. Just as often as James found himself staring at Carina, he would find Carina staring at him. Their eyes would meet and she would smirk slowly, a suggestive quirk to her lips.

James really, _really_ wanted to kiss her.

James was certain that if he kissed Carina, and if Carina kissed him back, they would never find a way out of this time-disorted hellscape because he would carry her to the guest bedroom, close the door, and ignore the fact that in four days they were scheduled to die. So James contented himself to only staring at Carina.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

By the next day James thought he was getting better at handling Miles. It helped that they had found a lead through one of the jewel sellers, which put both James and Miles in a good mood.

Or at least James thought they were both in a good mood until Miles confronted James, Carina, and Phineas in the study that evening.

"I have done some research on him," Miles spat, pointing an accusing finger at James. "There are no Evans wizarding families. There are also no records of him at Beauxbatons, Durmstrang, Hogwarts, and Ilvermorny. He could be muggleborn, but no muggleborn would have the resources to learn magic that well without going to a school. My theory is that he changed his name." Miles took a deep breath and, in a nearly comical way, waited for the dramatic tension in the room to build. "Carina, you are traveling with an imposter!"

"Perhaps you misread the records," Carina said coolly, all ice to Miles's vitriol. "And perhaps your time is better spent on other activities."

"I also did a Birth Name Charm," Miles said, mentioning the same charm that had been used on the Marauder's Map to show people's names. It was a complicated charm, but James realized with a sinking feeling in his chest that Miles definitely had the chance over the past two days to correctly perform the charm.

"I didn't know you were my bloody stalker," James muttered, annoyed.

"You should be less trusting, James _Potter,_" Miles spat.

James and Carina shared an uneasy glance.

"And what's your explanation for that one?" James asked, wondering why Phineas was content to stay silent and let the drama unfold.

"You are probably some bastard child that the Potters hid away," Miles said menacingly.

"Maybe." James shrugged. Miles's conclusions were so false that James found them amusing.

"Yes, his name is James Potter," Carina cut in. "Would you like to know his favorite color too? Family life? Job? His cat is named Polly, if that provides the information you seek."

"I don't care about his damned cat! I just want to know the bloody truth about what you two are doing here, and what the hell I've been researching!" Miles's fists were clenched and his jaw was set, but Carina remained unaffected.

"I'm from the future, Miles," James relented. "So I quite literally don't have the time to deal with your bullshit."

Carina leaned forward threateningly. "Miles, if you share that information with anyone outside of this room I will torture you."

"Please don't torture people on my behalf," James cautioned, uncomfortable that he had to say those words aloud.

"It would not be for you, James," Carina said, which was not reassuring.

Miles had blanched white. "Time travel isn't possible."

"Magic makes many things are possible," Carina said.

"Perhaps you should get a glass of water, Mr. Bickford-Smith?" Phineas suggested.

Miles silently left the room, still looking very shaken.

"Why do you like Miles so much?" James asked Phineas.

"Normally Miles works very well under pressure. I think he feels nervous around, Carina," Phineas said. "Which is tiresome, I agree, but he is still excellent at tracking down the minuscule details."

"He is good at investigating," James had to admit, despite his deep frustration with Miles. "He's exceptional at taking the varied threads we learn and creating a lead. We're narrowing down our list of possible people who made the pendant right now."

"That is good," Carina said. "Because I have found a problem."

"We don't need another problem," James said, his stomach dropping.

"Well we have one," Carina continued, tapping her fingers on Phineas's desk. "If the pendant brought us here, then it is anchoring James and me to this time. We will have to destroy it to return to 2028."

James ran his hand through his hair while considering Carina's statement. "Won't that create a time paradox?" He questioned. "Since we will be destroying the thing that brings us here from the future?"

Carina looked directly at James, expression troubled. "Exactly. I hope that if we destroy the object that brought us here we will create a time paradox that returns us to the future. It is the only solution to traveling forward that I have been able to find."

"That does complicate matters," Phineas mused. "Carina, may I look over your notes?"

"That would be helpful," Carina agreed.

Carina and Phineas went to the living room, where Carina's notes were spread out. James, however, decided to make sure Miles was not doing something brash, such as angrily smashing the wine glasses.

"Hullo," Miles greeted quietly when James entered the kitchen. Miles was sitting hunched over the kitchen table and staring into his glass of water. "So you're from the future?"

"Yeah," James said.

"That is fucked up."

"It sure is." At least Miles and James could agree on something.

Miles sighed heavily as he placed a slim notebook on the table. "These are my notes. I'm going to my flat now. I'll be back tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow then," James said.

"You should know," Miles disclosed as he stood up, "I've determined who commissioned the cursed pendant."

"Who?" James demanded. "And why didn't you say so earlier?"

Miles's expression was darker than storm clouds. James's stomach plummeted because Miles's clenched fist confirmed that whoever had made the pendant was truly nefarious.

Miles grimaced, as if swallowing down bile. "It was Robert Fawley."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

**AN: I meant to post this sooner, but I was unsure about the chapter. Tell me what you think about it, please. There's a lot going on in real life right now, and some of the scenes in the next chapter are giving me trouble, so I'm not sure when the next chapter will be up. Nevertheless, I have a very tiny snippet:**

[Fawley sneered, and although James should have been frightened since Fawley started speaking to them, that malicious sneer made all of James's previous bravado dissipate.]


	12. Chapter 12

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

James stared at Carina, trying to keep from smiling after her seriously posed question.

"Why would I know ballroom dancing?"

"Your parents did not hire a dance tutor for you and your siblings?" Carina was genuinely surprised, her eyebrows drawn together as if she was working through an Arithmancy equation instead of wondering how James had survived for twenty-four years without learning how to waltz.

"No! That's absurd!"

"Do you just stand in the corner during balls?"

"_Balls?_ We don't have balls in 2028!" James laughed at the image of the Potter family waltzing in a posh ballroom. He could sooner see Carina bow to a Hippogriff.

"Then how do you socialize?" Carina looked at him with a blank and uncomprehending expression, which made James laugh harder.

"I don't know, go to Quidditch games? Watch Muggle shows? You know what? I'm going to make a list of things we're doing when we get back to 2028. Let's see, get drunk, _not _go to a ball, watch telly, still _not _go to a ball, check on my cat. . . ."

"I cannot understand how you never learned proper dancing."

"It's really not that hard to believe."

"Well, I do not want to teach you all the proper ballroom etiquette!" Carina insisted.

James and Carina had claimed Phineas's study while he was at work, because it turned out that even people like Phineas Black had to attend to their jobs once in a while. Henry was also working, and Marius was at Muggle school, so James and Carina were alone in the house.

Carina's careful notes were haphazardly spread everywhere. But that was not Carina's main concern.

Her main concern was they had been in 1931 for five days, and in two days they were going to infiltrate a ball.

They had to decided to attend the Nott ball because they needed to find Robert Fawley, and Carina insisted that Fawley always attended the Nott's ball.

While James usually tried to forget that Carina had once been engaged to the same Robert Fawley who had designed the pendant, it was useful that Carina knew so much about Fawley. Carina, and also Miles, thought that Fawley would likely keep the pendant on him, since it was so valuable. The ball would be their chance to take the pendant from Fawley, since it would take months to undo all of the ancient protection charms that purebloods kept on their property.

James generally trusted Carina's judgement in 1931, but now he was wondering why she was so sure Fawley would attend the ball.

"Everyone goes to Mrs. Nott's ball," Carina answered dismissively. "Her ball is popular even if she always serves horrid canapes. Mr. Nott has an excellent liquor collection though, truly excellent cognac."

For a glimmering moment James spied the part of Carina that was a pureblood girl immersed in high society. He could perfectly imagine Carina snubbing stuffy old ladies at a high tea and viciously spreading rumours at a dinner party.

"Our main problem will be isolating Robert Fawley so that we can Stun him and steal the pendant," Carina said, returning James to their unusual reality. "Which will be more difficult if you stick out like a hippogriff among thestrals because you have horrid dancing technique."

"I'll just pretend to have an injury or something," James suggested. "I can't dance if I'm injured."

"That is an awful excuse," Carina sniffed. "It is rude to refrain from dancing at a ball. It is a _ball._"

"Oh yes, _a ball_," James repeated in a mockingly upper-class accent. "Pish posh, a ball."

"Are you teasing me?" Carina demanded, smiling.

"Yes! We should get into to this damn ball before we worry about my lack of dancing technique."

"Getting invitations is simple," Carina said. "I am going to blackmail the Nott family."

"Great, perfect, easy."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Everything glittered. The extraordinary amount of candles created a warm, flickering light that reflected from delicate crystal glasses, gaudy jewelry, and the judgemental eyes of the guests who crowded into the ostentatious Nott ballroom.

Although neither great nor perfect, getting invitations to the Nott Ball had been surprisingly easy. Carina had insisted she go alone; after an argument she had compromised with James so that James loitered outside the Nott House while Carina went inside to blackmail and manipulate the Notts for last minute invitations to their ball which was happening the next day.

James couldn't quite process the reality of his situation. He couldn't believe that he was stuffed into expensive dress robes that Henry had chosen for him. And he couldn't believe Henry had put a bucket of hair gel in his hair so that James's usually lively hair was somehow flat and compressed onto his skull.

Telling himself that he had faced more pressure during Quidditch matches didn't calm James's nerves because it was a lie. But Carina's steady presence helped calm James's erratic breathing.

If James was quite obviously ill at ease in the room of snobby, bigoted purebloods, then Carina was his opposite. The clean silhouette of her wine red dress, combined with her confident sneer, made it seem as if Carina was stepping into a role she was born for.

Carina had disguised herself so her usual gleaming black hair was now chestnut brown, and had used a slight glamour to disguise her face, but she still held herself with the same aggressively snobby grace that James was used to.

"James," Carina murmured, drawing James into a nook of the room that was secluded by curtains. "Stop looking like a man is going to jump out and punch you in the gut."

"Christ," James muttered, glad to be away from the crush of people. "Do I really look like that? I think when my hair is flattened it also makes my brain flat." James, hearing how nervous and shrill he sounded, became even more convinced this whole night was going to end in disaster.

"All we need to do is find Robert and Stun him when he is alone and of out of sight, so we can take the pendant," Carina said, resting a soothing hand on James's arm.

James shifted his stance so he was closer to Carina. "That doesn't seem easy. What if he doesn't have the pendant?"

"The plan is terrible," Carina agreed, which did not make James feel better. "But, as I recall, you are the one who is a proponent of 'winging it.'"

"You shouldn't listen to anything I say," James objected. Looking down at Carina, James saw a smile gracing her face. "What?"

"Maybe your flat hair does make your brain flat," she teased.

"Good thing I have you here." Reaching out, James tucked a stray piece of hair back behind Carina's ear, fingertips drawing through the ends of it. Sometimes James thought the most dangerous part about being stuck in the past was his growing and undeniable attraction to Carina Black.

"What do you think of the brown hair?"

"It's pretty," James said honestly. "Though I prefer your usual black hair."

"Really?"

"Really."

A loud peal of laughter from the ballroom stole Carina's attention, her silver eyes darting to the glimpse of the ballroom that was visible from their nook. "We should return to the ballroom."

James grimaced.

"I know. I would rather stay here too, but Robert has to appear at some point."

Though James was unable to forget about their goal for the night, all he wanted was to remain planted in seclusion with Carina.

"This will work," Carina said, tone steely with resolve. "I will make sure it does."

"Okay," James said, because he had been trusting Carina for the past seven days and he saw no reason to stop trusting her. Leaning in, he wrapped his arms around her in what James hoped was a comforting hug. Carina responded by putting her arms around James's waist, tucking her chin into his chest. They stayed like that for a long moment until James, not wanting the intimate moment to delve into awkwardness, stepped away.

"I suppose it would be bad if I calmed my nerves with a drink," he said, in a pale attempt at humor.

Carina graciously spared him a smile. "You would use a drink as an excuse to hex everyone in this ballroom into chickens, wouldn't you?"

"Still might," James grumbled as he and Carina stepped out of the corner of the ballroom.

"We will probably only be here for an hour or two more," Carina said.

They were wandering the ballroom for a few minutes when an imposing man stepped crisply in front of James and Carina. "So. You're Madame Nott's French guests?"

"_Oui_," Carina said. She nudged James. With a jolt he remembered that because of some patriarchal bullshit he, as Carina's fake husband, had to introduce them.

"I am Jacques Delacour, and this is my wife Catherine," James introduced, stiff and awkward with nerves.

"_Bonsoir._" The man inclined his head. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I am Dorian Greengrass. What brings you to London?"

Carina simpered. "I wanted something different for our honeymoon," she said. "Jacques does not care for the rain, but he was still such a dear and brought me here because I have always wanted to spend some time in London." Carina leaned forward to Dorian, as if disclosing a secret. "When we have children, I should like to send them to Hogwarts. Beauxbatons has been becoming a liberal enclave recently, it is truly despicable. Hogwarts still knows the importance of blood, _oui_?"

James felt dirty, so absolutely polluted by the blood-supremacists surrounding him that he wanted to throw himself into the Atlantic Ocean and cleanse himself of the dredges of wizard facism that were so blatant in this ballroom. He knew that he and Carina were just hiding behind a necessary facade so that they could escape this hellhole, but he still felt a trickle of shame, still wanted to scream.

"I quite agree, Madame Delacour," Dorian said, hopefully unaware to James's personal turmoil. "But, and correct me if I'm amiss, I thought the Delacours were a more liberally minded French family?"

Carina nudged James so he summoned the will to step into his role. "My family does not define me," James practically stuttered.

"Hmm, well."

"So, Mr. Greengrass, have you ever visited France, or even Beauxbatons?" Carina asked, blatantly steering the conversation to a different topic.

Once they escaped from Dorian they continued through the ballroom. Carina had agreed that James could feign an injury so he would not dance, and that also allowed the pair of them to remain together throughout the ball.

The ball also made James realize that he could never have slipped into pureblood society with out Carina. She knew all the social cues that could not be artificially taught, cues that purposefully kept interlopers out of the rarified social circle. James had grown up with Britain's wizarding elite, because of his parent's positions in society, but still the unspoken strictures of 1930s pureblood elitism were beyond his grasp.

It took another hour of inane conversation with various, but all despicable, people for Carina to finally settle on the conclusion that Robert Fawley was not in attendance.

"I don't understand," she confided anxiously to James, back in the a secluded corner of the ballroom. "Everyone else from our circle is here, even Dorian, who is Robert's best friend."

"Should we leave, then?" James asked.

Carina fiddled with a ring on her hand. "I am not sure," she prevaricated. "Staying here gives us more time for the guests to become suspicious of us. But what if he arrives late? This is the only time I was certain we could find him. Robert has always gone to this ball."

"If tonight doesn't work out we'll just find another way," James said, not believing his own words.

"We are running out of time," Carina said, frowning. "Let's stay at the ball a bit longer."

Not even ten minutes later, when Carina was complementing Mr. Nott on his fine dessert wines, Madame Nott created a flurry.

"Excellent, excellent," she was exclaiming to a House-Elf. "Lead him right in."

Double doors leading to the ballroom were promptly flung open and a young man stepped through them, instantly capturing the attention of everyone in the large ballroom. Carina, who had previously appeared relaxed and confident became tense.

"Oh, Mr. Fawley," Madame Nott gushed, nearly flinging herself on the man. "I'm beyond happy that you decided to join us."

"Forgive my tardiness, Madame Nott," the man said, his voice not loud but carrying through the room. "The Department of Magical Law Enforcement can be busy-"

"Yes, your job is so important," Madame Nott simpered.

"- but I absolutely could not conscience missing your ball."

"Oh, thank you, Mr. Fawley."

"And I rushed over when Dorian told me that you found two French guests to liven our British festivities." Time stopped as Robert Fawley made direct eye contact with Carina.

"James," Carina said urgently. "James, you need to leave. I underestimated him. James, you need leave now and get Uncle Phineas."

"What are you talking abut? No," James disagreed.

"James," Carina pleaded, her hand convulsing on his arm. "Please."

"This is delightful," Fawley said, suddenly escaped from Madame Nott and now in front of James and Carina. "I am Robert Fawley, it's a pleasure to meet you." From the way Carina had described Fawley, James had expected an evil hunch-backed villain, not a charismatic young man with a guileless smile.

"Yes, a pleasure," James murmured, off-put by Carina's demand for him to leave. "I am Jacques Delacour, and this is my wife Catherine."

Fawley took a step closer to James and Carina, effectively enclosing them against the ballroom wall. He spoke, and his voice now transformed into a sinister whisper. "Carina, my darling, it is a lovely surprise to see you here."

Carina avoided Fawley's eyes. "Robert."

James had no idea what was happening, but he knew pressure was building around them like crackling in the air before lightning strikes.

"Carina, I think you and I should have a private chat. Your . . . companion . . . can join us as well."

"I do not believe that is a good idea," Carina said, still calm.

"I would like a private chat, Carina," Fawley reiterated. "Or I will kill Monsieur Delacour."

James made a face, surprised at the threat on his life.

Carina jutted out her chin as James took careful note of all the escape routes in the ballroom. "It would ruin your political career to kill one of Madame Nott's guests, Robert."

"You always were so delightfully clever," Fawley said conversationally. "But you know, I am the Head of the Department of Law Enforcement now."

"You should not boast about a position that was handed to you by your father," Carina sneered. "It is unbecoming."

"As a Head of the DMLE," Fawley continued, unperturbed, "I am given a certain amount of options. I could arrest Monsieur Delacour right now, and no one would stop me. If Monsieur Delacour disappeared no one would care, least of all my father, the Minister. So I do think it would be a good idea for you to agree to a chat with me."

"We can have a private chat right here," James said.

Fawley sneered, and although James should have been frightened since Fawley started speaking to them, that malicious sneer made all of James's previous bravado disappear. "You must have a death wish. Fine, I can oblige you."

"I will have a chat with you, but Ja- Monsieur Delacour will stay here," Carina decided.

"I don't think so. And if Monsieur Delacour really wishes to keep courting death I am more than happy to bring them closer together."

"Fine," Carina snapped, all patience broken, her temper simmering. "We will talk with you."

"Excellent, my love. I knew you would see reason. Let's chat in the privacy of the outdoors, shall we?"

Stepping outside, Fawley calmly surveyed their surroundings. "This ambience is lacking," he remarked, voice soft.

Carina flinched, grabbing James. She tried to Apparate them away, but Fawley was quicker. With a crack and a painful twist of his torso, James was tearing through space, with no idea of where he was going.

In a case of truly terrifying deja vu, James once again landed with Carina on a familiar plush carpet in the same study they had first landed in when they arrived in 1931. This time his arm was bleeding from being Splinched, and Robert Fawley was standing above him with a chilling smirk on his sculpted face, wand outstretched. James tried clutching at his wand, but it was already hurtling towards Fawley, the result of a silent Expelliarmus charm. Seconds later, Fawley was also holding Carina's wand.

"Shall we begin?" Fawley asked, as if James and Carina knew what he was talking about.

"No," James disagreed flatly. "I think I want to leave now."

"_Crucio_," Fawley uttered, and James found himself convulsing with unimaginable pain, regretting every decision that had led to this point. He screamed because it felt like every cell in his body was trying to tear out of him, and the only thing to do under that much pain was to scream and hope for death. Carina shrieking was shrieking, but James barely registered the noise through the own pounding in his ears.

When the curse abruptly ended James only barely felt relief, the pain still lingering in shocks throughout his body. His shaking was uncontrollable and James had to choke back some vomit that crept up his throat.

"James," Carina was kneeling next to him on the ground, her light hands holding his twitching shoulders, "here, sit up. Put your head between your knees. There, that will help."

James numbly did as Carina ordered, and found his nausea receded slightly in that position.

"Sweet Salazar, Robert!" Carina now focused her seething rage on Fawley. "You really do know how to make an impression on your guests. You absolute maniac!"

"He was being insolent," Fawley excused casually. He flicked his wand and a large armchair collided roughly with James. "Sit in the chair."

Carina helped James, who was still shivering, into the chair. Fawley flicked the wand again and the armchair flew across to the room to the desk. Fawley murmured another spell and another plush armchair moved right next to Carina. He gestured at it. "Carina, darling, please sit so I can explain myself to you."

Carina looked even paler than usual as she sat in the chair, which then flew next to James's armchair, so they were both sitting in front of Fawley's large desk like unruly students.

Fawley sat down opposite them and leaned back in his chair. James noted that the desk did not provide nearly enough space between them and Fawley as he would have liked.

"I want to see you, love," Fawley said to Carina. He twisted his wand in the air and murmured, "_finite,_" causing Carina's disguised features to melt away into her usual appearance. "Also, I have some questions, and I imagine you do as well, Carina."

Carina nodded warily.

Fawley put James's and Carina's wands in a locked drawer, and pulled a familiarly glittering red pendant out of the same drawer. "You likely have a few questions about this."

Carina's hand convulsed against the arm of her chair, but her face remained impassive.

"I spent three years making this marvel of magical workmanship just for you, Carina. To bring you back to me after your grandfather trapped you in the abhorrent portrait."

Carina twitched. James couldn't read her expression, and in this horrible situation a smidgeon of doubt latched onto his mind. James had not known Carina for long. What if Carina actually liked the maniacal pureblood in front of them? Remembering all the conversations he and Carina had shared over the past few days, James tried to shove the doubt away. But James did not have a strong enough grasp on the pureblood machinations happening in front of him to dismiss his sickening suspicion that Carina had, perhaps, misled James.

Unaware of the battle in James's mind, Fawley continued speaking to Carina. "You are wondering how I knew about the portrait. Phineas Nigellus tried to Obliviate me, as he also Obliviated the rest of our social circle, but I overpowered him, used Legilimancy on him, and then disposed of him."

"And you think killing my grandfather is what? A token of how twisted your affection is?" Carina said.

"I did this for you, darling" Fawley said. "Phineas Nigellus Black trapped _my_ betrothed in a portrait for a century because he is still jealous that my father became the Minister for Magic instead of him. Phineas Nigellus couldn't bear for his precious granddaughter to become a member of the House of Fawley."

Fawley was leaning over desk as he looked earnestly into Carina's troubled eyes. "I spent three years locked away with the brightest alchemists and spellmakers in Europe so that I could make a pendant that would not only find you, but bring you back to me. And think, Carina, of how powerful we will be together. With your brilliance and my political acumen we could rule the world."

"You brought me back through time because you thought I would make a suitable wife?" Carina's voice was ice, assuaging James's fear that Carina held any ounce of affection for Fawley.

"Mate, you really need to work on your romantic gestures," James found himself saying, finally regaining his voice. He bit hard on his tongue afterwards to stop the unfortunate flow of words, but it was too late.

"You annoy me," Robert said, raising his wand. James tensed, waiting for another Cruciatus Curse, but instead Robert said, "_petrifucus totalus._" James seized up, unable to move.

Robert's earnestness became calculating. "I have known you were perfect for me, Carina, since we were Hogwarts students. I am a Fawley, and you are a daughter of the House of Black. How could we not be made for each other?"

"I sold your engagement ring."

"I noticed," Robert's eyes flickered to Carina hands. "I will make another one. Dorian actually recognized your engraved signet ring, and alerted me."

Carina twitched, hiding her hands in her skirt.

"You returned to this time minutes after I added the final spell to the pendant. I stepped out to tell Father, because I expected that you would return to the pendant, not to where the pendant was made. I was wrong on two counts, however. First, you returned to my study. Second," Fawley's eyes flicked dismissively at a still unmoving James, "you brought him. My security charms registered two people leaving through my Floo."

James had just enough foggy brainpower to register that because the pendant had been designed to bring Carina back through time, the pendant must have brought him too because Carina's hand had been on James at when he touched the pendant.

"Your imbecilic pendant killed someone close to me," Carina accused.

"Yes," Fawley sighed, "that can happen. There is a weak Compulsion Charm so that I knew the pendant would eventually find you once you got out of the portrait, and then transport you back to me. As a precaution, the pendant was spelled to kill anyone who examined it too closely."

"You killed someone as a precaution?" Carina repeated, her voice low yet dangerous.

"It is unfortunate, I know. But now, Carina, who is this man with you?"

"Killing someone is not unfortunate, it is _murder_."

"Semantics, darling. Now tell me who this man is or I will _Crucio _him again. Or perhaps I will return to my previous offer of arresting him and letting him languish in Azkaban."

"Leave him out of this."

"_Crucio_," Fawley hissed, and James was hit with another surge of pain. It was worse this time. His body was raw, and James could not even have the simple relief of screaming because Fawley had petrified him.

"STOP!" James heard Carina scream as his mind tore itself apart. "For Merlin's sake, Robert, you absolute leech, STOP IT!"

The pain mercifully subsided, although spasms of residual pain ran through James's body.

Robert calmly pocketed his wand. "Don't play games with me, Carina. Who is he?"

"James Sirius Potter," Carina relented, her foot tapping uncontrollably on the carpet.

"James _Sirius_ Potter? How fascinating."

"A Black is his father's godfather," Carina explained, voice wild. "He used to play professional Quidditch, but now he is a curse-breaker. He has a cat. He cares about his siblings. He is a Gryffindor, and a good man, Robert. Please, stop hurting him."

"I have no use for morally guided Gryffindor fools." Fawley leaned back in his imposing armchair, a calculating expression on his aristocratic face. "And a Gryffindor? Carina, you seem to have type."

"Stop it," Carina growled.

"You know," Fawley taunted, "I want to invite Bickford-Smith to our wedding so I can see his face when _I_ am the one to marry you. So I can delight in his realization that _he_ is half-blood scum and _I_ will be the one to have you for the rest of our lives. But it would be dreadfully improper to have filth like that at our wedding. So I will just have to imagine his despair."

"I am not marrying you."

Robert was unmoved. "Of course you are."

"I hate you, Robert." Carina's palpable rage filled the study. Everything seemed to tremble from the force of her hate. "I envy people who have never had to be in your vile presence."

"You have such a quick wit, darling," Fawley said, a twisted smirk playing on his face.

"You make me sick," Carina seethed.

"That is fine. It makes you more interesting."

Carina quivered with fury, her eyes blazing as she glared at Fawley like she was trying to become Medusa and turn him into stone. One of Carina's fists was clenched, her fingernails digging into soft palms.

"But," Fawley sighed, "I am tired of Mr. Potter." He yelled a name and House-Elf appeared. "Take Mr. Potter to the holding cell."

James felt a wrinkled hand take his wrist. With a loud crack of the Elf's Disapparition James suddenly and painfully landed on a cold stone floor. After small hands quickly went through James's pockets a crack announced the departure of the House-Elf, leaving James frozen and still unable to speak.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

**AN: it took forever for this chapter to feel ready, but here it is. **

**Thank you so much to everyone who has followed, favorited, and/or reviewed this story! You have no idea how much that means to me. **


	13. Chapter 13

Uncle Charlie had built a treehouse in the back of the Burrow for all of the Weasley cousins.

Everything was better in the tree-house.

It had been James's fault when Exploding Snap had got out of hand and Grandma Weasley had needed to put out the fire. The tree house had also been the first place James had Apparated too once he got his license.

It was the first place James had drank firewhiskey, when he was really too young to be drinking. Teddy had snuck some firewhiskey to the Burrow, and the cousins had shared the alcohol in the dark, giggling like the inexperienced drinkers that most of them were.

Two years later Teddy had brought a Muggle drug along with the annual firewhiskey. The cousins had shared the joint, most of them coughing as they passed it around. Victoire had then lay in the middle of the treehouse, claiming she had found at portal to the stars.

When Rose and Hugo's Muggle grandfather died they had sought solace with everyone in the treehouse. Al had first revealed that he and Scorpius were dating in the treehouse. It was where Teddy and Victoire had told the cousins that Victoire was pregnant, and where Victoire had convinced James that yes she was pregnant, and no it wasn't an elaborate prank.

It was the Weasley tradition that for a few days each summer every Weasley cousin would gather at the Burrow. James had been in Peru for the past two years, and had missed the cherished gatherings. In the few days he had been back from Peru he'd been too caught up in Delphine's death to visit the treehouse. And now he never would. Because James truly believed he was going to die in the dungeon.

James had run through all his options. He was alone in a dungeon, unable to move, and pain from the Cruciatus still lingered. If Robert Fawley didn't decide to kill him the dehydration would. Or he would die as his body disintegrated from the effects of time-travel.

James wished he had gone back to the treehouse when he came back from Peru, if only to appreciate the rustling leaves and musical chirping of the birds for one last time.

. . . . . . . . .

As it turned out, James was a dramatic son of a bitch.

He had accepted his imminent death within ten minutes of being in the dungeon.

Eleven minutes later the House-Elf had dropped off Carina, and James's prospects seemed infinitely brighter.

He still couldn't move, so it was disconcerting in the extreme when Carina's light hands were suddenly brushing on James's body.

"Are you alright?" She whispered in his ear, long hair brushing against his arm. "Blink twice if you are _not_ in imminent danger of dying."

James blinked twice.

"Alright. I am going to try and wandlessly end the _petrificus totalus _affecting you, but the House-Elf is watching us so you still cannot move. Blink if you understand."

James rolled his eyes, causing the corner of Carina's mouth to twitch upward. She pressed her hand to his shoulder and whispered _finite_. The magic coursed through James, relieving him of his forced constraints.

"I don't have a plan," Carina said.

"I have one," James whispered, though he only had one barely formulated idea of a half-arsed plan. "There is a spare wand in my right pocket," James said. The House-Elf had searched him, but since Fourth Year James had been charming his pockets so that they appeared empty to anyone who he didn't want taking his stuff.

"Impressive." Carina said. "We can use the wand to escape this cell. Once we find the pendant I can get us out of this house. "

"Aren't there anti-Apparition wards?"

"I have a Portkey."

"Uh-"

"I'll explain later," Carina said, almost brusque.

"Okay. I trust you."

"Thank you," Carina murmured, meeting James's gaze with her own silver eyes. Her hand crept forward and clutched James's hand, squeezing it, reassuring James. "The wand is in your pocket?"

James nodded.

"Grab it. Then Stun the House-Elf in the corner," Carina tilted her head in the direction of the House-Elf who was standing guard outside the cell.

"Okay."

Carina bit on her lip, nodding in an indication for James to move. He shoved his hand in his right pocket, grasping his wand. The House-Elf was promptly Stunned, so James, breathing a sigh of relief, sat up.

Carina hugged him. "That was excellent!"

James returned the hug, relaxing in the familiarity of Carina.

"Too bad I don't have two wands," he mourned, glancing at Carina's empty hands.

She half-shrugged, one shoulder lifting. "I am just glad we have one."

Remembering the still locked cell door, James wearily clambered to his feet. He walked the short distance to the cell door, and after making certain it was indeed locked, tried to unlock it. James knew many unlocking spells, from both his Hogwarts pranking days and time as a curse-breaker, but none of the spells worked. Carina, too, suggested her own variations on unlocking spells, but still the lock was resolute and unyielding.

Glaring at the padlock, Carina asked, "do you know how to pick locks?"

"Er, well. A bit," James said.

Carina withdrew two silver pins out of her hair. "Gwenllian gave us, sold us, these pins. I tucked them in my hair before we left. I thought it was silly of me at the time, but . . . ."

James took the pins and tried to recall what his cousin Fred had taught him about picking locks. "Here goes nothing," James muttered, carefully inserting the pins in the lock, his mind running through the little he remembered about bolts and locks, which was practically nothing.

It took several minutes, and James was mostly convinced it was due to luck, but the door was finally opened.

"Excellent," Carina breathed, squeezing James's hand. "I know the rough lay out of this house, and I think I can get us to the study."

James looked at the wand in his hand, and back at Carina. "Who should have the wand?"

"You are the better duelist, and you used to be a cursebreaker. You should have it." Carina said, surprising James with her choice.

"What about you?" James asked. "I don't want you to be unprotected."

"I can perform some spells wandlessly," Carina reminded. "And you will protect me."

James tightened his hold on Carina's hand. "Okay. But at least take a decoy detonator, and some Peruvian Darkness Powder. I have those in my pockets too."

"Good idea," Carina clutched at James's hand, "we can do this."

Aware of the dirty walls and smell of terror, and thinking this was the most unromantic moment James had ever participated in, but still captivated by the way Carina was looking at him, James opened his mouth to say something, anything, "you know . . ."

"You probably have some questions about me and Robert." Carina grimaced.

"Uh, not really," James admitted. "Seems pretty straightforward to me. You said your father engaged you two. It's not your fault that he's a psyschopath."

Carina relaxed, sparing a small smile for James. "I have never met anyone like you, James."

James stared for a moment, trying to decipher Carina's expression and words. He wasn't sure what she meant. Confused, and realizing that they were in the same house as her pyschotic fiance, James removed his hand from Carina's hold to pull two decoy detonators and Peruvian Darkness Powder out of his pockets. He handed them to Carina before quickly showing her how to use them.

"We should not spend anymore time here," Carina said once she understood how to set off the detonators.

"I'll go first, and you'll be behind, telling me where to go, okay?" James said.

Carina nodded, movement shaky. "You should Disillusion both of us."

Desperately wishing he had his dad's Invisibility Cloak, James tapped first his head with the wand, and then Carina's, so they both blended into their surroundings. "Let's go," James said, moving towards the door.

As they crept through Fawley's sprawling mansion, Carina whispered directions in James's ear, guiding him through long hallways and sharp corners. It was an imposing mansion, the hallways formidably barren. Although distracted by the ache the Cruciatus curse had left, James could not stop thinking about how this was they very house he and Carina had first landed in when they came into 1931.

They had been steadily moving through the mansion for over ten minutes when Carina took a panicked step backwards into James after turning a corner. "A House-Elf," she whispered, taking James's hand as if to reassure herself that he was there. After tense seconds, Carina peeked back around the corner and crept forward, still holding hands with James, into the now empty hallway.

On the third floor, Carina paused. "This is where Robert's study is, right down the hall, the second door," she said, voice wavering with nerves.

James took a deep breath.

Carina asked, "do we have a plan?"

"Barge in?" James suggested.

"No, that would be foolish."

Sighing, James tried to think of a plan.

"What are the ear things? I think you had them in your pocket," Carina whispered.

"Brilliant!" James dug into his pocket and produced two Extendable Ears. With a flick of his wand he Disillusioned both of them, and with another flick the Extendable Ears were reaching towards the outside of the study door.

James and Carina shared a bewildered glance when they only heard silence. After a few long moments there was a low murmur from the Extendable Ears, the sound of someone shuffling a stack of papers.

Leaning towards James, Carina whispered, "that must be Robert."

James nodded in agreement.

Minutes later, after sitting in silence, it was James's laughter that gave them away.

Uncle George would laugh for years if James ever got the chance to tell him how the psychotic Robert Fawley stepped crisply out of his office only to trip over two disillusioned Extendable Ears that lay by the door.

Robert Fawley had landed on his face, a spot of blood from his nose stark on the marble floor, and James burst out laughing.

Though James and Carina were camoflouged using a Disillusionment Charm, James was most definitely not quiet, so Fawley immediately noticed them. But seeing Fawley's shocked face as the pureblood wizard lay the ground made James, clutching his sides, laugh even more, until tears were rolling down his face.

Carina was not impressed with the situation.

Fawley, a sneer etching onto his face, pointed his wand at James. But James recovered his wits enough to shoot an Incarcerous Charm at Fawley, effectively immobilizing him. Fawley started swearing and cursing, which irritated James, so James also silenced him.

It was all, frankly, a bit anticlimactic, which Carina seemed to express when she said, "I did not expect _that._"

"So do we just walk into his office now?" James asked picking up the Extendable Ears, thinking that Uncle George would have to start advertising them as Tripping Tubes now.

"Break his wand," Carina said, voice and gaze both unyielding.

Ignoring Fawley's glare, James bent down and took Fawley's wand from the floor, snapping it in a clean motion. James felt a small twinge of remorse for irrevocably destroying Fawley's wand, but quickly reminded himself that Fawley was a useless prick who had put both Carina and James in a dungeon.

"That should keep him out of our hair for now," James said.

Carina nodded "We only need time to collect our belongings from the office."

James turned to the door, checking for warding and privacy spells on the study. The study was warded with a few low level spells, which James promptly unraveled so that he and Carina were free to walk into the study.

An involuntary shudder thundered through James when he walked inside the study, from the still fresh memory and lingering pain of the Cruciatus curse.

James turned when he felt a calm, gentle hand on his shoulder. Carina didn't say anything, just regarded him with her silver eyes.

"I'm okay," he reassured, keeping his gaze on her.

Carina squeezed his shoulder lightly. "Let's get out of here."

. . . . . . . . .

**AN: Yikes! It's been awhile since the last update. I have the next chapter planned out, but I'm not sure when it will be up. **

** Please review!**


	14. Chapter 14

. . . . . . . . . .

Carina removed her hand from his shoulder as she stepped towards Fawley's ostentatiously grand desk in the center of the room. "The pendant is just on his desk," she said, astonished. "That's too easy."

"He was probably examining it," James said. "I doubt he planned for us to ambush him outside his office with Extendable Ears."

Carina frowned. "But . . ."

James knew he was acting like a foolish Gryffindor when he reached over to pick up the pendant, mirroring his careless action that had brought him and Carina into the past, but he was dumb with exhaustion and past caring.

"James!" Carina shrieked as his fingers closed over it. Nothing happened. James picked it up, turned it over, and still neither of them dropped dead or were forced into yet another timeline.

"Huh," James said. "So we destroy it?"

"Not here," Carina ordered, sure in her decision. "We need to leave."

James opened his mouth to suggest they try the Floo again, although that seemed like it would start over Robert Fawley's decidedly not merry chase, but Carina was already pulling out her wand. She clutched James's hand in hers, chanting what James dimly recognized as Phineas's address. Amidst his confusion, James felt the same dizzying sensation of Portkeying.

They fell against the door of Phineas's house.

James gripped Carina's steady hand in his trembling one, thinking only of his incredible relief, and even more so of the equally intense emotions playing on Carina's face.

Staring at Carina's lips, James decided he was going to kiss her. He needed to kiss her.

Only Carina kissed him first, and finally, _finally_, James was pouring out his badly repressed emotions.

James knew he was a romantic sap, just as surely as he knew that this was the most perfect kiss of all eternity, and just as knew he cradled in his arms the most incredible woman of any time.

One of Carina's hands was against his chest, lightly pushing him into the door, the dig of the door-handle barely registering in his mind because now Carina's tongue was tracing along his jaw and there was nothing to James but adrenaline and desire.

The door opened. James stumbled, jostling Carina as he took awkward steps to keep his balance.

"We're alive," James gasped out, hysterical with the emotions building in his chest. But Carina was laughing too, her face in the crook of his neck, allowing James to touch her silken hair as he repeated over and over, "we're alive, Carina. You saved us. We made it out, you lovely, brilliant girl."

Carina, naturally, was the first to regain her senses and peer over James's shoulder. She pushed off him, and when James turned he saw her hugging Phineas, who in a rare display of emotion, was fiercely hugging her back. Then Henry was there, ushering James into the kitchen where Marius and Miles both sat, looking tired and stressed.

Marius shot out of his seat, running off to the foyer to see Carina. Miles met James's eyes, a frown on his face. "You two didn't come back and we assumed the worst," he said sharply. James enjoyed a brief sense of wonder that Miles had worried about him, before Miles said, "Carina means a lot to all of us."

James sighed, running his hand through his hair, too tired to bite back his sarcasm. "How difficult for you."

Miles glowered. "We all thought you had failed to protect her."

"As if Carina can't take of herself," James snorted. Already tired of Miles, James thankfully saw Phineas, Marius, and Carina coming into the kitchen.

Carina caught James's gaze. "We can go back home soon, James," she said, a brilliant smile transforming her solemn face.

"What happened to you? Why are you late?" Miles said, bringing gloom back into the atmosphere. Though it felt like months had passed since Carina and James had left for the ball, James realized they had only returned a few hours after they had been scheduled to.

James nodded at Carina, gladly letting her take the lead on their questions. He was content to just look at her.

"How did we Portkey out?" James asked later, when Carina had nearly reached the end of the retelling.

"It's the ring," Carina said, showing him the intricate signet ring she had always worn.

"Hmm?"

"It's a Black heirloom," Carina explained further. "If I say any address it'll take me there. Like Apparition, but I don't need to have been there before and it gets through most wards."

James was enough of a curse-breaker to be intrigued by the magic of the heirloom, but he didn't ask questions about it, merely pressing a tender kiss to Carina's temple and whispering "thank you," into her ear.

Miles choked on his water. Patting James's thigh, Carina blithely ignored Miles, and started plotting with Phineas.

"We have the pendant," Carina said. "But Fawley must know we have it. James and I need to destroy it and leave as soon as possible. When will we have the Basilisk Venom you were trying to buy, or will we need to use Fiendfyre to destroy the pendant?"

Miles said, "Gwenllian Fenwick is dropping off Basilisk Venom in the morning."

Carina exchanged a tiny smile with him. "Good."

"Carina," Phineas said. "Are there any loose strings you need to take care of before we destroy the pendant?"

Carina nodded, mentioning bank vaults and curses.

The rest of the night pulled together with disconcerting ease after the whirlwind of the previous days and hours. Carina created paperwork so that Marius and Phineas could draw on her Gringotts vault. Together they spent time discussing curses to use on Fawley so that he couldn't continue to draw Carina into time. Miles remained a surly bitch during the night, though James suspected that was mostly because James and Carina couldn't stop themselves from touching each other, always brushing hands or sneaking in light caresses.

"What if it doesn't work, James?" Carina said, in a rare moment of self-doubt as they sat on the couch after Henry told them they needed to rest.

James didn't pause his thumb's gentle movement on Carina's shoulder as she leaned into him, but he did shift enough to kiss the top of her head. "Do you trust your research?" He knew Carina wasn't looking for empty platitudes of reassurance.

"Yes, but . . ."

"And Phineas said it looked good too."

"But . . ."

"Do you want to hear my very Gryffindor opinion?"

Carina huffed a soft laugh. "No."

James ignored her sentiment. "I trust you did as much research as you could. And I would take my chances with you rather than giving Fawley time to track us down again. I would rather take my chances with you than wait to see if fucking Elihu Hinkley was right or wrong."

"But what if it goes wrong?" Carina repeated, a plaintive note to her voice.

"Then it goes wrong," James shifted their positions so they were facing each other, brushing his thumb over Carina's pouting mouth.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Are you trying to distract me?"

"I would never," James said, moving his thumb to caress her cheek and kissing her, still amazed when Carina leaned in to meet him. It was a soft, almost heart-wrenchingly tender kiss.

His hand cupping Carina's jaw, James rested his forehead on hers. "I'm worried too," he confessed. "But I would be more worried if I was with anyone else."

"How can you say that?" Carina asked. "When this is all my fault?"

James frowned, wondering what Carina was trying to say. "It's Fawley's fault."

"James," Carina sighed, one hand playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. "I yelled at you when we first got here, because I thought you touching the pendant with an open wound brought us here. But it wouldn't have affected you if I wasn't touching you, because I was Fawley's target. This is my fault, and I blamed you." Her voice nearly broke on her last words.

"Carina," James breathed out. "You couldn't have known. It is stupid to touch a magical object with an open wound. Surely you've realized I do stupid shit a lot."

"I called you horrible names."

"Honestly," James said, not bothering to hide his smirk. "I think you're really hot when you're angry."

Carina managed to look menacing while blushing adorably.

"It's not your fault that we're here," James repeated, leaning in to see if more kisses would distract her.

Unsurprisingly after their exhausting and overwhelming night, James and Carina managed to fall asleep, neatly slotted against each other on the couch, fitting as if they had been curling against each other for years.

Henry, in his utterly kind way, woke them with tea, oatmeal, and a report that Gwenllian had just dropped off the Basilisk Venom.

"Are we just destroying it here," James asked when everyone, including Miles, was sitting at the kitchen table.

Carina nodded. "I don't know if there is a better place." She looked at Phineas who nodded in agreement.

"Cool," James said nervously. "Cool, cool, cool."

Carina's hand was on his shoulder, soothing him. "You're ready?"

James smiled weakly at her. "I have to be ready, don't I?"

Tender goodbyes, mostly said to Carina, then started. It was odd, almost anticlimactic, for James to stand, hugging Carina to his chest, and watch Phineas Black pour a vial of Basilisk Venom onto the pendant that had brought them to this time. The venom touched the pendant, sizzling and absorbing into it, when James's stomach started to squeeze into itself. James closed his eyes and held Carina closer.

James, feeling like a small bug being vacuumed through space, was convinced his limbs were being ripped off his body. He and Carina landed roughly on the floor, Carina still propped against him.

Some familiarity of the setting confirmed they had ended up back in the Auror Offices they had left eight days earlier.

Someone, neither James nor Carina, started screaming.

"Hey," James felt drunk as he forced words out. "Do you think you could bring us to St. Mungo's? I don't feel so good."

. . . . . . . . . .

James opened his eyes to blinding fluorescent lights.

When he saw the bright red St. Mungo's hospital bracelet adorning his left wrist he realized where he was.

James tried to keep his eyes open, but lethargy dragged him back into unconsciousness.

When James awoke again he first noticed the highly polished leather shoes that were propped on his clinically white hospital bed. His brother was resting his feet while absentmindedly flipping through _Quidditch Weekly._

"Al," James croaked, surprised at how difficult it was to speak. His mouth felt like it was stuffed with dry cotton.

Al froze. "James."

"Hug me, you prat," James ordered. "I missed you."

Al put away the Quidditch magazine and hugged James with an intensity that belied his calm facade. James, ignoring the sharp twinge on his left side, hugged his brother with weak arms.

"Sweet Salazar, Jamie," Al said gruffly. "It's been a bloody nightmare without you."

James started sobbing at the sound of his childhood nickname. He was safe. He was done with 1931, but he was emotionally and physically drained. James was crying in deep, rattling sobs while Al weeped silently onto his shoulder, yet there was no where else James would rather be. "Al, I really fucking missed you. I know it's only been a week, but Merlin was it a fucking trip."

"James." Al pulled away from the hug, but he still clutched James's hand. Al's green eyes were glistening with tears. "James, it's been five weeks."

"You're shitting me." James realized the timelines must have paced differently.

"It's been five weeks. You were gone for five weeks, and you've been unconscious for a day."

"Good Godric," James rubbed his forehead with his free hand. His head hurt.

Al continued speaking, a few tears trickling down his cheeks. "It's a good thing you woke up with me standing vigil instead of Aunt Hermione or Dad or Lily. They have millions of questions. No one has any idea why the hell you and Carina Black disappeared for five weeks, and Carina hasn't woken up yet."

"Carina? Merlin, where is she? She's alright isn't she?" James demanded, worry overwhelming him.

Al paled. "Jamie, she's not doing so good."

James felt sick, nervousness gnawing at his stomach. "She'll be okay, though?" James whispered, unwilling to contemplate the alternative.

"I don't know. The Healers think her body is reacting badly to extreme magical stress. They aren't sure why, because you're basically fine. But then, nothing makes sense anymore," Al explained wearily.

"But she'll be okay?" James said. Maybe if he kept repeating that Carina would be okay his mantra would become reality.

"She's alive." Al's response was not comforting.

"I need to visit her," James said, trying to move even as Al pushed him back into the hospital bed.

"Slow down," Al ordered. "You've been gone for five weeks and unconscious for a day. I know you're worried, but there are Healers looking out for Carina right now. Take it easy for a few minutes."

James felt too weak to wrestle off his brother, so he relented. "We've been gone five weeks?" James was beginning to conclude that time was pretty fucked up.

"Yeah."

"Fucking hell."

"It's been horrible." Al looked exhausted and much older than he actually was. "It's been so bad without you, Jamie. You were just gone and we didn't know what to do. I'm pretty sure everyone in the Auror Office is terrified of Lily now. And Sirius went bloody bonkers when Carina disappeared."

"Well now I'm back to bring light into everyone's lives," James joked weakly.

"Right, I should probably tell people you're awake," Al said.

"Er." While in 1931 James had wanted nothing more than to be surrounded once again by his whole extended family. Now, the thought of answering all their questions was exhausting. "Can you catch me up on the past five weeks first?"

"Sure," Al agreed. He adjusted his position so he was sitting more comfortably on the edge of the hospital bed, still clutching at James's hand, as if unwilling to let go. "Sirius has started coming over to our house all the time. He's cool. He and Lily are basically best friends now. Sirius also visits Vic and Teddy a lot. Um, the Quidditch season is decent. Really James, we've mostly been mourning you, if that boosts your ego."  
"Mourning?" James questioned. "Did you think I was dead?"

Al made a face. "No one knew anything. And five weeks is a long time. Everyone assumed you were just gone."

"Oh my Merlin," James murmured, his stomach dropping at the thought of how his disappearance must have affected his family. "I'm so sorry."

"You're back now," Al said calmly. "I should really tell someone you're awake so that you can be smothered by our family." Al stood up, but looked nervous, "I'll just stick my head out the door. No more vanishing or going unconscious on me, yeah?"

"Yeah."

James's slow brain was overwhelmed when there was soon a whole crowd trying to hug him at once. Weasleys were seriously loud people.

Two hours later James limped down the corridors of St. Mungo's. He was slow, but he would have been slower if Al wasn't lifting him up his right side, and if Lily wasn't propping him up on his left.

"Which room is it again?" James asked, his aching side begging him to sit down.

"433," Lily said. "It's right here." She guided him into a stark room that had no decoration and only a tiny window.

James breathed in sharply when he saw Carina laying on the white bed. She was unmoving, so unnaturally still that for a moment James was afraid she was frozen in death. He relaxed when he noticed slight rise and fall of her chest.

"Hey mate." James flinched when he heard the tired voice, then realized it was from Sirius, who was sitting in a chair on the side of the room. "I'm glad to see you're alright."

"Yeah," James responded, his voice unusually weak. "I just woke up."

"Take my chair." Sirius stood up, shoving his chair at James. Al took the chair and placed it next to Carina's bed.

James gratefully lowered himself into the chair. Leaned forward so he could be closer to Carina, James, took one of her small, cold hands in his. Her dark hair was spread out on the pillow, contrasting with her skin and emphasizing how pale and sickly she was. "How is she?" James asked, worried about the answer Sirius would give him.

Sirius sighed heavily, fingers pinching his nose. "She's here," he said. "She's here and she wasn't here two days ago, so that's an improvement."

"Yeah," James agreed. He wished he had something more intelligent to say, but he felt empty sitting here, staring at Carina's still form. His head and limbs were numb, but his stomach roiled with worry.

"What happened to you two anyways?" Sirius asked.

"We traveled in time," James said dully. "We went back to 1931, and we had to figure out a way to get back," James swallowed down the beginnings of a sob in his throat, "I'd be dead with out Carina."

James felt a heavy hand on his shoulder. It was Sirius. "The world is fucked up." The sentiment was surprisingly comforting, but James still found himself crying.

"It's so messed up," James said, his voice gruff with emotion. "Her fucking fiance tried to kill us, and we had to go the Notts' ball. But we didn't die. And Carina figured out a way for us to get back in time," James took a deep, shuddering breath, "but now she might die and it was all for nothing."

"James," Sirius said fiercely, his hand heavy on James's shoulder. "It wasn't all for nothing, because you're both here. You need to go home. You need to process everything that's happened. Relax first, and then you cam come back here."

It made sense, but James couldn't let go of Carina's hand.

"Jamie," Al said. "Sirius is right."

"And you're going to break Carina's fingers with that tight hold you've got," Lily pointed out.

Focusing an intense look at Sirius, James unwillingly released Carina's hand. "Fine, but I'll come right back. Let me know if anything happens to her."

"Of course," Sirius agreed, "I'll be here when something happens."

. . . . . . . . . .

**AN: it's been a hot minute. I'm so sorry y'all. I really didn't expect this chapter to take so long. ****The next chapter is the last one in this fic, which is wild. I'll be posting that chapter in a week, I promise!**

**I hope you're all staying safe and well. Much love to anyone still reading this silly adventure of a story.**

**I also just posted another fic, so check that out if you're interested!**


	15. Chapter 15

Part 3: The Future

. . . . . . . . . .

She only saw white. She blinked. There were vague blurs of color.

Keeping her eyes open was excruciating, so she fell back asleep.

When Carina opened her eyes again she didn't know where she was, and panic thrummed through her body.

Carina took a deep breath and counted. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. And she took another deep breath.

What had happened?

Where was she?

Where was her wand?

This last thought made her sit up. She needed her wand.

Carina was in a bare hospital room. A minuscule window in the corner was letting in slivers of morning light. But the clean lines of the room pressed upon Carina, making her desperate to get out.

Carina's breath caught when she saw Sirius lounging, asleep in his stiff chair. She had escaped 1931. She was safe. Sirius was here.

Carina lightly slipped out of bed and ruffled through a small drawer next to the bed. On the top was a note from James to Sirius.

_Hey Sirius, _

_ I stayed here most of the night with Carina. Healers came in and said there was no change in her condition. Teddy told me he thinks the problem is because Carina was in a portrait for a century, and then time traveled twice, all in quick succession, so the combined magical stress put in her some kind of magical unconsciousness. Teddy says she'll wake up when her body has recovered._

_ I had to go home to get a few hours of sleep and take a shower, because I have to be in the Auror Offices for a debrief on the pendant and my disappearance. Teddy said he would stay with Carina till you got here. _

_ Let me know if anything changes._

_James_

Carina caressed the note and tucked it in a small pocket in her hospital gown. She also found her wand and a pair of surgical scissors, and, oddly, Gwenllian's mirror, all of which she held in her hands as she padded to the door of her room and arrived in the hallway.

She looked down both directions where the hallway stretched, and stepped tentatively left. There had to be a bathroom somewhere.

There was a bathroom somewhere, which Carina found after turning a few corners. She passed a Healer, but Carina hid the scissors in the folds of the voluminous hospital gown she had been placed into.

In the bathroom Carina hurriedly washed her face. She tried to sip some water, but that was difficult as she didn't have a cup, and Carina would never _slurp_ something.

Once Carina felt human again she looked at her hair, brought her fingers to an appropriate spot on one lock of hair and start snipping. Every piece of hair that fell felt like losing a weight.

The haircut started off as choppy and terrible, but Carina found simple joy in trimming her hair and focusing on the even lines of the cut. She used Gwenllian's mirror to see the back of her, so she could make the ends straight instead of diagonal and messy.

Carina didn't know how much time passed until she decided her hair, which now ended at her shoulders, and swayed delightfully when she turned her head, was the perfect length.

When Carina slipped back into the hospital room Sirius was awake, his wand pointed at her until he realized she was not a stranger. His ruffled hair and wrinkled clothes were clear signs he had just awoken.

"You left," Sirius said.

Carina rushed forward and hugged him. She could feel her throat closing up and her chest tightening until she was shaking under the waves of huge, rattling sobs.

"Hey, hey, shhhh, love," Sirius whispered in a flood of soothing words. "It's alright, you're fine."

Carina just sobbed even harder into his shoulder until, running out of tears, she resolved into sniffles.

"Sirius, will do you me a favor?" She whispered into the soft fabric of his shirt.

"Anything."

"Can we get out of here? I need to leave."

"The Healers should have a final check up," Sirius cautioned.

"Sirius," Carina pleaded. She was aching, and her right knee stabbed in pain when she put too much weight on it, but the white walls were closing in on her and Carina thought her head would explode if she stayed in St. Mungo's a moment longer. "My leg hurts a bit, but I know plenty of potions to take care of it. Please just take me out of here."

"You won't collapse on me?" Sirius asked. Carina noticed the gleam in his eyes, and knew Sirius was willing to help her.

"I feel alright. I just. . . I need to leave."

"Your hair is short."

"I know. I cut it myself. So can we leave now? Where's James?"

"You're wearing a hospital gown."

Carina rolled her eyes and pulled out her wand. With a wave her large white gown became a set of blue wizarding robes and the scissors became a pair of shoes. "So, we can go?"

Sirius winked."'Course we can. I love a good escape plan. James is probably at my flat if he isn't heading here to check on you. That boy," Sirius peered at Carina with a knowing look, "certainly cares about you."

Carina hid her bashful smile. "Can we go to him?"

"Yes. He's been staying with me since he woke up."

Sirius skillfully guided Carina out of St. Mungo's with out attracting attention. Every step she took away from her hospital room lightened the weight on her shoulders even if it made the pain in her legs ache further.

. . . . . . . . . .

James sat in the chair by her bed, staring at the white sheets, his jaw clenched.

Carina slipped off the bed, thankful she had not been put into another ridiculous hospital gown, and took her wand off the bedside table. She had fainted during lunch. James and Carina's reunion, when Carina had stumbled into Sirius's flat where James was, had been as sweet and ecstatic as any reunion could be, even with Sirius looking on with a curious gaze. Carina was so happy in the presence of James and Sirius, that she had continued to ignore the growing pains in her body until she had fainted before she could take a bite of the sandwich James had made for her.

"Where are you going?" James asked as Carina bent to put on her shoes. James was so tense and stiff that Carina wondered if he would shatter into pieces if she touched him.

"Teddy said that as long as I take my prescribed potion regimen I should be fine," Carina took a slow step towards the door, "so I think it is time to leave. Are you going to join me?"

James stood up. "Carina," he said, eyes boring into her. "Sirius said you told him your leg had been hurting before you fainted."

Carina nodded.

"Why didn't you say something?"

"I hate St. Mungo's." Carina was not going to apologize for neglecting her _own _health. That was her prerogative.

"I _know_ you hate small spaces like these," James said, his voice strained. "But we could have asked Teddy to meet us somewhere. They even have a Healer stationed at the Auror Offices. You could have still taken care of yourself without coming back to St. Mungo's. We could have figured something out. "

"I didn't know."

James took a step closer to Carina. "Do you realize the hell it has been for the past week when you were unconscious, looking like death? No one knew when, or even if, you would get better," James ran his hand through his hair, "the last thing I want is to see you back in that damned hospital bed."

Carina bit her lip. "Oh."

"Will you just remember that I care about you?" James pleaded, reaching for her hand.

Carina stepped forward and kissed him.

James's response was hungry and immediate. He pressed closer to Carina, turning enough so she was pressed deliciously between him and the wall. Relief and desire spurred their intensity, Carina only aware of James's mouth on her skin and his body against hers.

The creak of the door opening felt so distant that Carina ignored it, but when the door closed loudly Carina was startled enough to unwillingly tear herself away from James, breathing deeply. She looked into James's face, trying to take in every detail of his mussed hair and bright eyes. It was a marvel how well they fit.

"Er, hello." That was not James's voice. Carina turned her head and saw Harry Potter and Auror Harbottle looking shocked.

"Sweet Salazar," Carina breathed out, quickly looking away and trying to ignore them.

James removed his hand that had found its way under Carina's blouse and shifted so his arm was braced against the wall, as if to create a barrier between Carina and the intruders.

Carina took a long breath, trying to maintain her poise.

A small smile was playing on James's face. "This is your fault."

"_My_ fault?"

"Yeah." James leaned closer to whisper in Carina's ear. "You kissed me."

Crossing her arms, Carina frowned. "You did not exactly jump away."

James had again distracted Carina from the Aurors, but when Harbottle his throat Carina tensed.

James turned to look at the Aurors. "Yes? I'm having a conversation here."

Carina bit her lip, aghast, yet amused at James's impertinence.

"Some conversation." That was Harbottle's voice.

James nodded solemnly. "A very serious conversation."

"James," Harry said.

James smirked at Carina, as if they shared a private joke. "Dad hasn't looked this nervous since he walked in on me messing around with fireworks in my bedroom."

Uncomfortable, Carina shifted her weight. Being pressed against a wall with James while his father and another Auror looked on was awful. St. Mungo's was the worst.

Carina stepped cleanly around James. "We should leave."

Now that James wasn't blocking her view, Carina recognized how awkward and uncomfortable Harry and Harbottle looked in the doorway.

Still unfazed, James turned around to face her. "Do you have your medical potions with you?"

"Yes."

"Do you want me to bring you to Sirius's?"  
Carina looked at James gratefully. "Please."

"Actually," Harbottle interrupted, stepping forward. "Auror Potter and I are here to interview with Miss Black."

"Why?" Carina asked sharply.

"We just want to get it over with, so you won't need to come into the Auror Office," Harry exchanged a glance with James. "We understand this has been very trying for you." Harry's jaw was set in a way that reminded Carina unsettlingly of James. She knew it was reasonable for Harry to be worried about his son and time-travel disappearances, but Carina didn't want to yet again review the details of her painful experience in 1931. Her relentless mind did that enough for her without her needing to speak it aloud.

Harry continued. "What if it happens again? The Auror Department needs to be able to pursue ways to protect people from curses such as the one you and James were affected by."

Overwhelmed, Carina closed her eyes.

"Dad, maybe tomorrow," James said softly. "When Carina is feeling better."

"My notes on time-travel should have been in my robe pockets when we returned to this time," Carina said, opening her eyes. "If I can retrieve those notes, then you are welcome to them."

Auror Harbottle shifted his weight. "We have already looked through them."

"That is a gross invasion of privacy," Carina said. Her cold voice immediately chilled the room.

"Your notes were evidence in the case of your disappearance," Harbottle said.

"We're doing our jobs, Miss Black," Harry said evenly. "Harbottle just has a few questions more to ask. It shouldn't take more than ten minutes and then you can leave."  
Carina dearly wanted to refuse and leave St. Mungo's. She frowned. "Ten minutes? That's it? "

"I promise. Thank you. " Harry said. Carina was predisposed to disliking him, after he had dragged her to the Auror Offices when they first met, but his demeanor now was almost paternal, comforting in a fatherly way even as he remained professional. "James, you need to leave the room."

James clenched his jaw. "Dad, is this really the time for an interrogation?"

"James, this is Auror business."

James's brow furrowed as he clenched his fist, trying to reign in his anger.

"James," Carina said gently, catching his attention. "It's fine."

James nodded, meeting her gaze and finding something in it that let him relent. "I'll wait outside."

Harbottle conjured comfortable chairs for them to sit on as soon as James closed the door. They all awkwardly sat down and Carina waited for one of the Aurors to start the interview.

"How are you doing Miss Black?" Harry asked after a long, tense pause.

Carina settled into her role of a pureblood snob like a knight would put on armor. "I just want to get this over with."

"You and my son seem . . . attached."

Carina knew showing her embarrassment would accomplish nothing. "Is that relevant?"

Harry sighed and exchanged a look with Auror Harbottle, who spoke next, his voice grumpy per usual. "So it was Robert Fawley who designed the pendant that killed Madame Burke and sent you and James back to 1931?"

"Yes." A retort lay on Carina's tongue, but she swallowed it down. She only had to get through ten minutes of this interview.

The interview continued in that fashion, with Carina swallowing down the insults and retorts that unerringly came to mind, all with the goal of getting through the interview and finding James afterward.

Nearing the ten minute mark, Harry frowned at a piece of paper. "We went through some papers your grandfather left for you. He mentions some prophecy, in his letter explaining why he put you in a portrait. What are your thoughts on that?"

Carina bit her tongue to stop herself from cursing, but she couldn't hide the disgust in her tone. "Utter hogwash. Prophecies are idiotic and self-fulfilling. I'm sure Grandfather was glad to hear it so he could rationalize his madness."

Harry, surprising Carina, coughed in his arm to hide his laughter. "We're in agreement about that," Harry exchanged an indecipherable glance with Harbottle before abruptly saying "that's all for today, we'll keep in touch. Thank you, Miss Black."

Carina nodded and maintained her comfortably emotionless mask. "Have a good day."

Neither Harry nor Harbottle followed Carina out of the room. James's arms surrounded her the moment she stepped through the door.

"You're good?" He asked, hands fluttering over her like a mother hen.

Carina rolled her eyes while she kissed hs jaw. "It was fine. I can handle myself."

"I know, but . . ."

Carina narrowed her eyes at James and he made a face, opening his mouth to say something, surely to excuse his worried behavior.

"It's fine if you worry about me," she decided first. "I don't want anyone else to."

James laughed, and Carina didn't think she would ever tire of the sound. "Careful before you say that. I might just trap you in my flat so you don't go anywhere."

Carina knew James wouldn't trap her anywhere, although she also realized she wouldn't mind spending lengthy time in the freedom and comfort of James's flat. But she simply said, "can we finally finish lunch first?"

. . . . . . . . . .

"My family thinks we're dating," James said, weeks later.

James and Carina were sprawled on Sirius's couch, James's arm around Carina as she nestled her head in his shoulder, both looking at the telly. They were nearing the end of some movie that was part of James's effort to 'educate' Carina into modern life.

Carina was more focused on how James's fingers were splayed out on her waist.

"I wonder why they might think that," Carina said dryly, remembering Harry walking in on them snogging in St. Mungo's, or more recent memories of Ginny's intent gaze as James whispered sweet words into Carina's ear, or Sirius rolling his eyes whenever he saw them cuddling on the couch. Merlin knew Sirius didn't know what to do with them.

James didn't say anything, so Carina turned her head to gently place a kiss on his neck. "What?"

James faced her, something earnest in his expression that made Carina's heart full. "Do you think we should be dating?"

Carina briefly considered teasing James, but looking up at him, pressing into his side, she could only say, "I certainly don't want to do this with anyone else."

James expression lifted, but was still questioning, so Carina said, "James I don't know about 2028 courting. Can't we just keep doing this? I like this."

James smiled, a shining, happy grin. "I like this too."

. . . . . . . . . .

**AN:**

**that's it . . . **

**Pls comment and tell me what you think.**

**If any of you care to know, I have lots of thoughts about this story. There are things I would do differently if I wrote it now, but at the end of the day I'm proud of myself for finishing it and I learned a lot from writing it.**

**Love love love you all. **


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